The Taming of the Shrew
by setlib
Summary: Zuko and Katara are seniors in high school. He teases her, then ignores her. She despises him. But when Zuko's father kicks him out of the house and he has to move in with his hippie Uncle Iroh, he begins to see Katara in a new light. AU Zutara/Blutara.
1. Chapter 1: Act One

**Title:** The Taming of the Shrew

**Author:** setlib

**Rating:** T-rated for language and sexual content

**Setting:** Alternate Universe – modern high school, no bending

**Pairings:** Zuko x Katara

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the rights to any characters from Avatar: The Last Airbender.

**Summary:** Zuko and Katara are seniors in high school. He teases her, then ignores her. She despises him. But when Zuko's father kicks him out of the house and he has to move in with his hippie Uncle Iroh, he begins to see Katara in a new light. But as the bard warned, "the course of true love never did run smooth."

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o

**The Taming of the Shrew, Chapter 1: Act One**

"William Shakespeare is such an asshole." I threw my backpack down on the gum-coated floor of the bus and stretched out across the vinyl bench with a yawn.

Sokka and Suki settled into the seat behind me, laughing lightly but more interested in snuggling with each other than debating the classics. "I think you mean he _was_ an asshole, Katara," Suki finally replied, after kissing my brother for far longer than seemed appropriate this early in the morning.

"I'm serious! He was a chauvinistic pig. A total neanderthal. If he weren't already dead, I'd slap him. Have you actually read any of the stuff in _The Taming of the Shrew_?" I demanded.

Sokka rolled his eyes. "It's the first day of school, sis. We haven't even had our first English class. No one's started reading it yet except for you, Little Miss Overachiever."

The bus started up with an asthmatic rumble and I turned my back to the pair before I had to see them start kissing again, pulling my copy of the play out of my backpack. "There's a reason I'm in Honors English and you're not," I tossed back over my shoulder as I hunched down on the already sticky plastic-coated seat and tried to get comfortable. It was only 6:30am and we had a 45 minute bus ride before we'd get to school. Since I'd already finished my summer reading essays back in June, I figured it was the perfect time to get a head start on what would probably be the assigned reading for tonight.

I thumbed through the opening scene, checking definitions, scanning footnotes. More kids got on and the noise level spiked with everyone squealing and catching up after summer break. I was able to block out all the chatter until the Bane of My Existence boarded the bus and slammed a backpack so heavy it felt like it was stuffed with rocks onto my legs.

"Move it or lose it, Sugar Queen."

With a groan I looked up to find Toph Bei Fong standing over me, one hand on her hip. Her choppy black hair hung over her eyes, her trademark torn jeans and dark green hoodie just the same as last year. A whole summer away from her had _not_ been long enough. Two years ago she had transferred to our school from Seattle, and after I'd brought some powdered-sugar covered chocolate fudge cupcakes (my own recipe, thank you) to the school bake sale, she'd insisted on calling me "sweetness" and all kinds of other embarrassing nicknames ever since.

"I don't want to sit next to you either, Princess. But the bus is full." She cracked her knuckles. "We can do this the easy way, or the hard way."

I don't want to sound like a wimp, but she could pretty much kick my ass. The only girl who ever tried out for the school's wrestling team, her Dad had threatened the coach with a Title IX lawsuit unless he let her compete. Not only did she compete, she went on to win the District Championship last year, and half the boys in school crossed to the other side of the hall in fear when they saw her coming. Grumbling under my breath, I put my legs down on top of my backpack, and she pushed her pack on the floor and plopped down next to me, leaning against my shoulder to stretch her legs out into the aisle.

"I swear, for someone so short, you sure take up a lot of room." I gave her shoulder a nudge but she ignored me, instead reaching up to pick in her ear, waving her elbow back and forth in front of my nose.

"Yeah, well for someone so smart, you sure are dumb."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"If you can't figure it out, ask Sucka."

"His name's Sokka!"

"Not when he's sucking face like that," she said, jerking her thumb behind us. I turned around and, sure enough, he was all over Suki like Magellan on a map, apparently trying to be the first to circumnavigate her globes.

With an exasperated sigh I shoved Shakespeare into my backpack and looked out the window, determined to ignore the morass of teenage hormones that was swamping the bus. Toph seemed content to spend the rest of the trip picking her nose, toes, and anything else she could reach. The early morning sun was low in the sky, filtering through the trees in blinding flashes as the bus wheezed up and down the hills. This was wine country, and tourists flocked here from all over the world to ooh and aah over the sparkling coastline, towering old-growth redwoods, and miles and miles of vineyards. But to me it was just home – a run-down old inn that Sokka and Dad and I could barely keep profitable, and a bus ride to school that seemed to get longer every year.

Kids like Toph, from wealthy families, could dream about going somewhere exciting for college, getting away from here, striking out on their own. But Dad needed me, and ever since Mom died, I knew that I couldn't leave him. Now the grapevines looked like barbed wire to me, the trees like prison bars, and as much as I wanted to hurry up and graduate, in a way I dreaded it, too. Because then I wouldn't be able to escape the fact that I would be stuck here. Forever.

The bus finally pulled into the parking lot of Four Nations High School and I stayed in my seat a minute while everyone crowded out, watching the swarm of people out on the blacktop. Four Nations was an ironic name, since it was supposed to signify the unity of the four main Native American tribes in this area – the Pomo, Lake Miwok, Wappo and Yuki peoples. I'm part Pomo myself, but since there were only a handful of other kids from these tribes actually at the school, everyone joked that "Four Nations" referred to the four levels of the social structure instead.

I watched Sokka leap into a cluster of overgrown crewcut boys wearing their football t-shirts with the "Warriors" logo. These were the jocks, of course. Every school had them. And then the geeks, which apparently I was one of, although I don't really understand how getting good grades or being in band automatically made someone a geek. But whatever.

The third tribe was the Outcasts, and it was a big but amorphous group of people who didn't really fit in anywhere else. The kids of the migrant workers, who dropped in and out of school sporadically, hung out mainly with each other, and mostly spoke Spanish, fell into this category. So did the serious hippies, many of whom were home-schooled up until they came here, arriving as dreamy-eyed freshmen but discovering pretty quickly that the real world was hostile to their kind of individuality. The goth kids, theater kids, and lots of others ended up in the Outcasts, too. They clung together in small clumps in the parking lot, easily visible by their clusters of dark black hair, or psychedelic-colored home-knit sweaters, or black boots and trenchcoats, moving in and out of the other groups but never really mixing in.

I got up and stepped off the bus, only to be nearly mowed down by a hot red convertible that glided sleekly into an open parking spot in front of me. I didn't know what kind of car it was – I didn't pay attention to that kind of thing – but I figured it probably cost more than some kids' houses. The driver, Azula Fujiwara, and her brother Zuko climbed out of the car and swaggered toward school without so much as glancing at me, let alone apologizing. They were in the fourth group, the rich kids, whose parents bought vacation homes and vineyards the way other people bought toys.

Azula was drop-dead gorgeous, highly competitive, and mean as a snake. Actually, that wasn't fair. Snakes were really beneficial creatures. She was more like a scorpion, sleek and sharp and full of poison. She would step on anyone who got in her way. Her brother Zuko was an arrogant jerk, who wouldn't even bother to step on you. He probably wouldn't want to get his designer Italian leather shoes coated in dirt from us peasants. I watched them start climbing the stairs up to the school building, a matching pair in black and red, twin sneers on their faces.

"Now that's HOT!" Suki shouted in my ear.

I scowled at her. "What are you talking about? No way is Zuko hot. He's stuffy, and proud, and..."

"Katara, honey," Suki purred, smiling dangerously. "I was talking about the car. I never said Zuko. But _you_ did. Now, isn't that interesting?"

I blushed and tried to think of an excuse. "I just – I thought – It's not like -"

"I can't say I blame you," she continued, ignoring my feeble protests. "I mean, just look at that ass."

I didn't want to look, but now that she said it, I couldn't help myself. Oh. My. God. His black trousers – he never wore jeans, and who the hell wore trousers to high school? – left little to the imagination as he climbed the stairs. His red shirt wasn't tight, exactly, that would have been too crass for someone like him. But it was expertly cut, highlighting the way his wide shoulders tapered to a narrow waist, and his biceps flexed almost elegantly.

"He's a runner, don't you know? Lean, not like these meatheads." She gestured to the members of the football team who were pushing each other, Sokka included. "Solid muscle. And imagine what he could do with all that stamina!"

I felt my mouth go dry at the thought. Thankfully he and his sister got to the top of the stairs and were soon out of sight. "I was NOT ogling Zuko," I lied.

She shrugged. "No need to ogle him. Just listen to his voice. It's low, and husky, just made for whispering dirty words in the dark."

I felt the blush creep from my cheeks all the way up to the top of my head. "I can't believe you're saying these things!"

"What have you got against him? I mean, he's perfect. Handsome and wealthy, like a modern day Prince Charming. But with enough bad boy mixed in to keep things interesting."

"He's not a bad boy! He's horrible!"

"Oh, and you're such an expect on boys? Because you've had exactly how many boyfriends?"

"That's irrelevant," I grumbled.

She put her hands on her hips. "I don't think so. Katara, you're a senior and you've never dated! I bet you've never even been kissed! Maybe you _need_ a bad boy."

I shook my head. "Not him! He scowls and sneers all the time! He acts like he's better than everyone else."

She tsked dismissively. "He just needs a strong woman to take him in hand, that's all."

"Suki! You're dating my brother! Does he know you've got the hots for Zuko Fujiwara?"

"I don't, Katara. I was just trying to figure out whether you do. And I think I got my answer." She took off before I could utter any other hollow protests, heading with Sokka to their first period class.

Meanwhile I stood in the middle of the parking lot like an idiot while it emptied of students. Me? Like Zuko? Not in a million years! I heard the five-minute bell and stomped to my first period class, ranting and raving inside my head. How could Suki talk about him that way? Making me think of his muscles, and his sexy voice, and...no, No, NO! I was NOT going to think about him any more. I stopped in front of my English class, took a deep breath to compose myself, then opened the door...to find none other that Zuko Fujiwara sitting in the front row. How could I forget? We always had Honors English together, I just never really paid that much attention to him before.

"Miss Iweda, you're almost late!" Mrs. Jennings said as the door slammed behind me with a solid thunk. Everyone turned to look at me, and although I tried to keep my eyes trained carefully on the teacher's face, I couldn't resist glancing over at him. His gaze met mine briefly, his eyes a ridiculous shade of light brown, almost gold. Bored, he looked away immediately. Oh god. Why did the room suddenly feel so claustrophobic? "There's an empty seat next to Mr. Fujiwara. Sit down, please, and pull out your copy of The Taming of the Shrew." Of course I would have to sit right next to him. I slunk to my seat as quickly as I could and prepared to studiously ignore him.

It was going to be a long year.


	2. Chapter 2: Act Two

**Title:** The Taming of the Shrew  
**Author:** setlib  
**Rating:** T-rated for language and sexual content  
**Setting:** Alternate Universe – modern high school, no bending  
**Pairings:** Zuko x Katara  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own the rights to any characters from Avatar: The Last Airbender.

**Summary:** Zuko and Katara are seniors in high school. He teases her, then ignores her. She despises him. But when Zuko's father kicks him out of the house and he has to move in with his hippie Uncle Iroh, he begins to see Katara in a new light. But as the bard warned, "the course of true love never did run smooth."

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o

**The Taming of the Shrew, Chapter 2: Act Two**

I settled into my seat and prepared to block out the droning voice of Mrs. Jennings introducing our semester studying Shakespeare. Father had sent me and Azula to Yale University's month-long Summer Seminar "The Bard in Theory and Practice" in June, and I seriously doubted I was going to learn anything new from this woman, who'd probably been teaching the same tired lesson every year since 1982. Yet another step in Father's master plan to get us admitted to his alma mater, Stanford University. Considering how much money he donated to the school – take the new Fujiwara Observatory as proof – I didn't think we had to worry. But "never settle for second place when you deserve the best" was his motto, so we had to keep pursuing these extra activities to pad our college applications. He wasn't just a helicopter parent – he was a fucking stealth bomber.

What really burned me was that Azula had managed to get out of this idiotic class. Just because she was a so-called "prodigy" and had skipped two grades, she had the entire faculty wrapped around her little finger. She told me this morning she'd petitioned to skip this class, since she'd already studied Shakespeare, and complete an independent study instead. I don't know what pissed me off more – the fact that the teachers fell for her crap, or the fact that she didn't tell me what she was trying to pull so I could join in. Now, even though I'd attended the same damn seminar, I was stuck listening to boring lectures while Azula had the period free to work on her "independent study." And now she had yet another thing to lord over me in front of Father. Typical.

Just as Mrs. Jennings was babbling on about the theme of "social roles vs. individual happiness" in _The Taming of the Shrew_, the door opened and a bald, lost middle school student in baggy brown clothes barged in. At least that's what I thought until he handed Mrs. J. a note, which she read, and then looked up at all of us with an excited gasp. Her static-cling hair puffed out like a gray dandelion as she waved the boy forward.

"Class, we have a new student! Everyone, please give a warm Four Nations welcome to Aang."

The bald child waved, and actually had the nerve to speak. "Hi, everyone! I just transferred here from the Developing Virtue Secondary School. Thank you for welcoming me to your class."

I couldn't believe my eyes. Everyone knew about the Buddhist monastery in Redwood Valley. Hell, we had to take field trips to it almost every year. Even though it had a small school, their students never left the hallowed halls to mingle with us sinners. So what was this miniature escaped monk doing here? I wasn't surprised to see Mrs. Jennings start fawning all over him immediately.

"Well, class, I want everyone to make a special effort to help Aang get accustomed to our school. Aang, here's a seat right in the front row for you."

I swear, pretty soon she was going to make us all link arms and sing Kumbayah. All the other kids were craning their necks to get a look at him. On my right was Miss Prissy, Katara Iweda, pointing him into the seat next to hers.

"Wow! That's so nice of you. Thanks a lot," he said with a wide grin as he sat down.

Katara pushed a long strand of brown hair behind her ear and leaned toward him. "No problem," she said, practically cooing. I'd studied body language, and she was clearly giving out signs of being interested in him. Unbelievable! He's been here one minute and the Flirtatious Friar was already scoring with the girls. And what is he, twelve years old? The last thing I wanted to deal with is another damn prodigy.

"All right now, everyone, please turn to the first scene of _The Taming of the Shrew_." Mrs. Jennings waved her hands in the air excitedly. "We're going to go around the room and everyone is going to take turns reading a few lines from Act One."

Just when I thought this class couldn't get any worse. Did she think this was Kindergarten? I barked out my line when it was my turn, but otherwise I tuned out the sound of teenagers butchering Shakespeare and decided to amuse myself by trying to figure out which of Dante's nine circles of hell best described what it felt like to be stuck in this class. The fifth circle was _anger_, but the eighth circle was _fraud_. I was _angry_ because I had to _fake_ being interested in these morons. Tough call.

"Excellent job, class. Just fantastic! Now I'm going to assign parts to everyone based on your readings, and you're going to continue to read your part out loud over the next few weeks as we finish studying this play. First, the lead roles. Zuko Fujiwara, you'll be Petruchio."

I almost rolled my eyes. Of course she'd give me the main character, there was no question that my reading was better than anyone else's. But now I would actually have to pay attention in class. Fan-fucking-tastic.

"And Katara Iweda, you'll be Katharina."

Mrs. Jennings kept prattling off the list of assignments but I was momentarily distracted by the sharp squeal Katara let out. I looked to my right to see her wiggle in her seat, obviously beside herself with happiness at getting the lead. She glanced up to catch me looking at her and blushed, a light pink that started near her nose and spread back toward her ears. I thought she would look away, but instead she held my gaze. I'd never noticed what a deep blue color her eyes were, but they were almost startling in their intensity, her pupils slightly dilated as she stared at me. She bit her lip, and her hand moved up to stroke her collarbone. She probably wasn't even aware that she was giving out subtle little signs that she was attracted to me, but I recognized them right away. Interesting. Maybe Miss Prissy had a naughty side after all. Suddenly this class was starting to feel a little less boring.

"Now, everyone, let's begin reading Act Two, Scene One," Mrs. Jennings prompted with a happy flourish of her book.

The girl assigned to read Bianca started, and I read my part absent-mindedly, most of my attention on Katara. She kept shifting in her seat, crossing and recrossing her legs, leaning toward me and playing with her hair. I'd never really paid attention before, but she probably had longer hair than any other girl in school. It fell all the way to her waist, thick and brown, with big round curls that gave off a subtle lemon scent as she worried them with her fingers. She read her lines surprisingly well, not stumbling over any of the archaic language, adding a tart humor to her role. Finally our characters met, and I leaned toward her, really throwing myself into the part of the witty suitor.

_PETRUCHIO: Come, come, you wasp; i' faith, you are too angry. _

_KATHARINA: If I be waspish, best beware my sting. _

_PETRUCHIO: My remedy is then, to pluck it out. _

_KATHARINA: Ay, if the fool could find it where it lies, _

_PETRUCHIO: Who knows not where a wasp does wear his sting? In his tail. _

_KATHARINA: In his tongue. _

_PETRUCHIO: Whose tongue? _

_KATHARINA: Yours, if you talk of tails: and so farewell. _

_PETRUCHIO: What, with my tongue in your tail? Nay, come again, Good Kate; I am a gentleman. _

Startled laughter came from the class after that line, and no wonder. Shakespeare definitely had a raunchy side. Katara was blushing again. It was so easy to embarrass her, yet so satisfying. She nervously pulled her hair back, baring her neck, in a classic submissive posture. Was she picturing my tongue in her tail? I sure as hell was.

She took a deep breath and looked up at Mrs. Jennings. "What am I supposed to do for this next part? It says to strike him."

"Get into the role, my dear!" the teacher enthused. "Feel what Katharina is feeling! She's always been smarter, wittier, than anyone else. Then in walks this suitor, the first man who could ever hold his own against her. She's threatened, challenged, angry, afraid. Lash out!"

Katara turned toward me and read her next line:

_KATHARINA: That I'll try. _

Then she raised her right hand and pretended to swing it at me. Not content with her half-hearted attempt, I grabbed her arm in my hand and yanked it toward me, holding it in a tight grip against my chest. Katara's eyes widened in surprise and I growled my line:

_PETRUCHIO: I swear I'll cuff you, if you strike again. _

Although the next part was supposed to be read with anger, Katara's voice had a breathless quality to it that was surprisingly sexy:

_KATHARINA: So may you lose your arms: If you strike me, you are no gentleman; And if no gentleman, why then no arms. _

_PETRUCHIO: A herald, Kate? O, put me in thy books! _

_KATHARINA: What is your crest? a coxcomb? _

_PETRUCHIO: A combless cock, so Kate will be my hen. _

_KATHARINA: No co –_

Katara stopped suddenly, biting her lip. Why didn't she finish her line? Was she actually too embarrassed to say the word "cock" while looking at me?

"C'mon, Katara, you can say it." I leaned toward her, holding her arm tightly so she couldn't back away, and whispered too low for Mrs. Jennings to hear. "It's easy. Just look at me, and say 'cock.' All you have to do is open your mouth, and let the 'cock' slide right out. It just takes a little practice. You might even like it." I stroked my thumb against the inside of her wrist, and I swear I felt a shudder run through her. She yanked her arm away, gritted her teeth, and spit out the rest of the line:

_KATHARINA: No cock of mine; you crow too like a craven. _

I laughed lightly at the effort it took her to say just one dirty word. I was pretty sure that later tonight when I was alone in my room, I would spend some quality time remembering the round shape of her lips, their pretty red tint, when they had formed the word 'cock' for me.

She raced through the rest of the lines, her anger adding an extra dose of passion to her reading, until finally we came to my character's big speech:

_PETRUCHIO: Marry, so I mean, sweet Katharina, in thy bed:  
And therefore, setting all this chat aside,  
Thus in plain terms: your father hath consented  
That you shall be my wife; your dowry 'greed on;  
And, Will you, nill you, I will marry you.  
Now, Kate, I am a husband for your turn;  
For, by this light, whereby I see thy beauty,  
Thy beauty, that doth make me like thee well,  
Thou must be married to no man but me;  
For I am he am born to tame you Kate,  
And bring you from a wild Kate to a Kate  
Conformable as other household Kates.  
Here comes your father: never make denial;  
I must and will have Katara to my wife._

Mrs. Jennings cleared her throat and interrupted me. "You mean 'Katharina.'"

"Excuse me?"

"You said, 'I must and will have _Katara_ to my wife.' You meant to say '_Katharina_.'"

I kept a straight face. "Of course." Thankfully the bell rang before anyone could interrogate me further about my slip of the tongue. Katara grabbed her backpack and practically fled out of the room, leaving a delicate trail of lemon scent to linger in the air behind her. I leaned back in my seat and watched her go.

Suddenly I was actually looking forward to our next English class.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o

**Author's Note:** I know it sounds weird, but there actually is a large Buddhist monastic community called The Sagely City of Ten Thousand Buddhas in Mendocino County, California, and it really does have a school. Since I've never seen the place, this story is still entirely a work of fiction. I just thought it would be a really cool way to keep Aang as a Buddhist monk even in the modern world. That will become more important later in the story.

P.S. Thanks to all the awesome folks who wrote reviews, I was surprised at how many people took the time to leave comments. The ATLA fanfiction community is so supportive! You guys rock!


	3. Chapter 3: Break

**Title:** The Taming of the Shrew  
**Author:** setlib  
**Rating:** T-rated for language and sexual content  
**Setting:** Alternate Universe – modern high school, no bending  
**Pairings:** Zuko x Katara  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own the rights to any characters from Avatar: The Last Airbender.

**Summary:** Zuko and Katara are seniors in high school. He teases her, then ignores her. She despises him. But when Zuko's father kicks him out of the house and he has to move in with his hippie Uncle Iroh, he begins to see Katara in a new light. But as the bard warned, "the course of true love never did run smooth."

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o

**The Taming of the Shrew, Chapter 3: Break**

I had never been so mortified in all my life. As I fled English class, I could still hear Zuko's voice in my mind, low and husky, whispering dirty words, taunting me. I saw Sokka and Suki in the hall, getting books from their lockers for next period, and I ran up to them.

"Zuko is such an asshole!"

Suki laughed. "First Shakespeare, now Zuko. You're really on a rampage today. What, is it that time of the month?"

"I'm serious!"

Sokka raised an eyebrow. "What's got you all worked up?"

"You won't believe what he just did to me in class."

Suki wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "Does it involve groping? He's got such long fingers..."

"Suki!" Sokka and I cried simultaneously.

She shrugged. "What? He does."

I wanted to stomp my foot, but they'd just tease me for being immature. "He said something rude to me."

"Ooh, he made a pass at you? Awesome!"

I ignored Suki and looked at Sokka. He frowned, finally exhibiting a little bit of big brother protectiveness. "Is that true?"

"Yes! Well – no, not exactly. I don't know."

Sokka sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look, we've got to get to class. What exactly happened?"

"Mrs. Jennings made us read passages from _The Taming of the Shrew_ aloud, and he did, but, well, he was really rude about it." No way was I going to say _that _word in front of my brother.

Sokka's face froze for a moment, and then he burst out laughing. "Oh, man. You're taking this Shakespeare stuff way too seriously. Someone reads an assignment in class and you think they're making a pass at you?" He pulled a notebook out of his locker and slammed the door shut, shaking his head. "You really need to get out more." Sokka and Suki headed to their next classes, leaving me fuming in the middle of the hall.

Was it possible that I was overreacting? Why was it that the same lines that seemed so tame when I read through them on the bus this morning became positively scandalous when Zuko said them? Had Suki been right this morning – was I secretly attracted to him? I walked over to my locker, trying to consider the question objectively. It didn't take me long to decide.

No. Freaking. Way.

I wasn't attracted to him, I was just mad because he was being such a jerk. And it was totally unfair for him to make me feel so nervous about seeing him that I didn't want to go to class. I was good at English, and I liked Shakespeare. I was absolutely not going to let him get away with this kind of sexual harassment. Like any bully, he only picked on me because I thought I was too afraid to stick up for myself. Just because I was raised to be polite, that didn't mean I was weak. I gritted my teeth and started working on my plan of attack. Zuko was about to get a taste of his own medicine.

My next class, Statistics, was probably going to be pretty easy for me. I chose to take a fourth year of math but I had opted out of Calculus. Whereas Sokka, even though his grades were generally so poor that he had even had to repeat a grade back in elementary school, had always been better with numbers than I was. He was actually in AP Calculus, his only advanced course, while I was looking forward to skating through my senior year of math.

I tuned out the teacher, Mr. Vargas, introducing the syllabus for the year and opened my new Statistics notebook to the first page. Instead of taking class notes, I began sketching out my strategy for getting back at Zuko. I was bound to run into him at Break, and I wanted to have some clever put-downs ready and waiting. And just to prove to him that I wasn't embarrassed by a little swearing, I was going to use _that_ word, too. I propped up my left elbow and hunched over my notebook, trying to make sure that no one could see what I was writing. I tried out sentences like "How's your cock?" or "Keep your tongue out of my tail!" but they all seemed completely lame. Witty repartee was a lot harder than it looked!

His introduction finished, the teacher lowered the lights and turned on the projector to show us a bunch of charts and graphs. As I was squinting to see my writing, a hand shot around my side from the desk behind me and grabbed my notebook, yanking it right out from under me. I whipped around in my seat to find Toph holding it on her lap, smirking at me.

"You give that back!" I tried to keep my voice low but I was too flustered, and the teacher turned to us immediately.

"Is there a problem, ladies?"

"No, sir," I said quickly.

"We're good," Toph said, casually covering up my notebook with hers.

"Then face the screen, and no more talking."

I closed my eyes and slumped down in my seat. How much embarrassment was I going to have to suffer today? And it was only 9am! I pretended to pay attention for the rest of the class but in reality I was sick with dread. Toph wasn't going to let me live this down. I had visions of her making copies of my dirty notes and distributing them all over campus, or scanning and uploading them to a website with a headline like "Katara is a secret pervert" or something. When the bell finally rang, I was shocked when she tossed my notebook back on my desk and left without a word. I opened it up to find that she'd filled two pages with possible comebacks and snarky comments that I might be able to use. And they were a lot better than mine! What was she up to?

Scanning the list, I found a few that I thought might work and whispered them under my breath to help me remember them. Then I grabbed my stuff and headed back to my locker, debating the whole way. Did I really want to do this? Could I just saunter up to him and actually say these things? Maybe I should just forget all about it.

But then I saw him, lounging on the steps to the upper level with his wealthy cronies, and my body flushed with heat. He thought he could treat people any way he wanted and get away with it. If I didn't stand up to him now, I would be a target all year long. I was going to teach him that I was his equal in every way. Although my heart was pounding and my stomach quaked with fear, I sucked in a fortifying breath and then headed straight for him, walking slowly and confidently.

He noticed me when I was a few paces away and I saw his gaze roam from my breasts, down the new pair of jeans that still fit my legs too tightly, and back up to linger on my breasts again. I was suddenly reminded of Suki's comment about groping. He didn't even have to touch me and I still felt like I'd been fondled. When he finally met my eyes I was livid with anger, but managed to lean casually against the wall next to him.

"Couldn't stay away, could you, Miss Priss?" he said with a smirk, his buddies chuckling behind him.

I let a slow smile curve my lips. "I just wanted to tell you not to worry. It happens to every guy occasionally."

He frowned in momentary confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"When you slipped me your cock earlier, it was awfully soft. There's nothing more disappointing to a girl than a limp cock. Maybe you should talk to your doctor about that."

Zuko's jaw dropped in shock and his friends howled with laughter. I turned away and walked down the hall, letting my hips sway and a smile split my face.

Take that, you jerk.


	4. Chapter 4: Prompt

**Title:** The Taming of the Shrew  
**Author:** setlib  
**Rating:** T-rated for language and sexual content  
**Setting:** Alternate Universe – modern high school, no bending  
**Pairings:** Zuko x Katara  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own the rights to any characters from Avatar: The Last Airbender.

**Summary:** Zuko and Katara are seniors in high school. He teases her, then ignores her. She despises him. But when Zuko's father kicks him out of the house and he has to move in with his hippie Uncle Iroh, he begins to see Katara in a new light. But as the bard warned, "the course of true love never did run smooth."

o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o

**The Taming of the Shrew, Chapter 4: Prompt**

After the first flash of shock had passed, I quickly shut my mouth and watched Katara walk away with a self-satisfied little swing in her hips that I had never seen before.

"Oh, man, she got you good!" Stefan Valiente, captain of the cross country team, was doubled over, laughing.

I flushed hot with annoyance. That little wench had probably spent the entire class period before Break planning what she was going to say to me. She must have been feeling pretty pleased with herself right now. Little did she realize that she had bitten off way more than she could chew. This morning I had just thought of her as a little bit of entertainment to get me through a boring class. But now, after embarrassing me in front of half my teammates, I was ready to declare all-out war.

I needed to get more information about Katara so I could figure out where to strike first. And I knew just who would be able to tell me every dull detail about her life. With a few minutes of Break left, I went outside to the stretch of green grass bordering the parking lot. There was Ty Lee, just as I expected, doing cartwheels for her flock of male admirers.

"Hey, Ty Lee!"

She landed with a flourish and bounced over to me, brown pony tail swinging. "What's up, Zuko?"

I gestured for her to follow me and headed to a part of the lawn that was fairly empty, just to make sure no one would overhear us. I crossed my arms. "What do you know about Katara Iweda?"

"Oh! She's got such a lovely turquoise aura. That's a really unusual color, you know. It means she's a great healer."

I sighed and tried to cut Ty Lee off before she got too sidetracked with her New Age bullshit. "I mean, how does she spend her time? I never see her on campus after school, so I'm guessing she's not in sports or anything?" I prompted.

"Oh, no. Ever since her mother died she's had to work at the inn with her Dad."

Her mother was dead? I felt a slight twinge of sympathy but ruthlessly squashed it. "What inn?"

"You know – Lighthouse Inn, over on the Point."

"That old place? I didn't know it was still in business."

"They renovated it a few years ago, added a spa and a small restaurant. Katara bakes all of the desserts. Haven't you ever noticed the great cakes and cookies she brings to the bake sales?"

I frowned. I'd never bothered to notice anything about Katara. But now that I'd started, I couldn't seem to stop.

"Why are you asking about her anyway?"

"We, uh, have a project together in English. I've got to figure out when we can get together after school to study." Suddenly the bell rang and I cursed under my breath. I was going to be late for my next class. Ty Lee and I hurried back into the building.

"Just so you know," she said as we walked up the steps, "I won't tell anyone you were asking about her, even if it's just for class. You know how Mai gets."

"Tell me about it," I grumbled, then nodded to her and headed toward Environmental Science. I'd spent all morning thinking about Katara and had completely forgotten that my girlfriend was just getting back from a month-long trip to Italy. I pulled out my cell phone and checked my messages. _Shit!_ Six texts from Mai just this morning, and I hadn't answered any of them. She was going to be pissed.

I opened the classroom door to find Mai and Azula already sitting next to each other, deep in conversation. Mai flicked a glance at me and then shifted slightly toward Azula, ignoring me completely. Crap. I was in no mood to grovel but she was clearly mad at me. Someone else might not be able to tell, since she wore basically the same bored expression all the time. But I'd known her for years, and I could detect the slight stiffening in her back, the tension in her jaw as she pretended I didn't exist.

I dropped my books on the desk next to her and slid into my seat. "Welcome back, Mai. How was your flight?" I considered reaching out an arm to hug her, but she generally rejected any public displays of affection with complete disdain.

"If you really wanted to know, you would have answered my texts," she said over her shoulder.

"You know I can't check my phone in class," I said defensively. "Did you get any sleep on the plane?"

She turned her head and looked at me scornfully. "Does it look like I got any sleep?"

Was this a trick question? She had dark bags under her eyes, but then she always did. It was part of her makeup. She did look even paler than normal but I was pretty sure there was no good way to tell your girlfriend she looked like hell. I decided the best strategy was to deflect her anger onto someone else. Her stepbrother was always a good target. "How was the Demon Spawn on your trip?"

She frowned. "I'm still trying to convince Dad to hire an exorcist. That child is not normal."

Mai Malinconico was the daughter of a famous Hollywood director who'd won so many Oscars that he didn't need to work anymore. He'd decided to retire in Napa Valley and dragged Mai and his third wife and their toddler up here, then bought a vineyard and started his own wine label. My father probably had more money, but he'd made his wealth in the boring world of computer science, developing software used by the leading investment firms and then selling it off so he could cash in. Even though he wouldn't admit it, I knew he envied Mai's dad for the glitz and glamour of their lifestyle, and secretly loved it when he was invited to one of Mr. Malinconico's parties with Hollywood starlets and paparazzi. Father was thrilled that I was dating Mai, although really we'd just been thrown together so often, at vineyard events and the country club and school, that it seemed like we'd been dating for years before we finally made it official last spring.

I decided that a compliment might get me back in her good graces. I pointed to a chunky beaten silver band wrapped around her wrist. "That's a great bracelet, Mai. Did you get it in Italy?"

"Yea. You like it? Maybe you can borrow it."

Azula's bright laugh grated on my nerves. "Hey Zuzu, I have some matching earrings you could borrow. You'd look soooo pretty."

I leaned back in my seat. Forget the both of them. I was through trying to act nice. Thankfully I was saved from the horrors of small talk when our teacher walked in and began yet another introduction-to-the-first-day-of-class lecture. Instead of paying attention to class or to Mai, my mind kept returning to the image of Katara sauntering away from me. She was turning out to be quite a little shrew, but that was okay. I was just the man to tame her.

I survived the boredom of the rest of my classes and finally made it to cross country practice after school. After changing quickly I began stretching and warming up. I was eager to start running, to lose myself in the sheer physical exertion that cleared my mind the way nothing else could. I'd kept up with my running over the summer, but I liked practicing with the team better. I always pushed myself harder when I was competing against someone, and it was a lot more satisfying crossing the finish line when I knew I just beat everyone else.

Of course it wasn't enough just to come in first. Father had also insisted I make team captain my senior year, and he'd been furious when the team had voted for Gary Chin instead. And then this summer, when Gary had been hit by a car while he was out running, Father had gone in personally to talk to Coach Rodriguez and ask him to appoint me captain. But of course Coach didn't like anyone telling him what to do, so Stefan became captain instead. Father had gone ballistic when he found out. He thought that even if I won Regionals, it wouldn't be enough to get me into Stanford. Secretly, I was relieved that I didn't have to be captain. I wasn't interested in the pep talks and grunt work and babysitting the captain had to do. I just wanted to run – and to win. I was smart enough to keep my opinions to myself, though.

"All right, guys. Huddle up!" Coach was standing at the track entrance, slapping his clipboard impatiently against his thigh while Stefan handed out bottled waters.

As I eased out of my stretch and headed over toward Coach, I noticed a little boy hovering behind him in baggy team t-shirt. Had he brought his kid to practice?

"We've got a new team member. Give a big BearCat welcome to Aang!"

The boy stepped forward and I realized it was the same bald monk-in-training from English class this morning. I scowled. This was freaking insulting. "Coach, this is a competitive team, not a charity. He'll wreck our scores."

Coach cast me an irritated glance. "I didn't ask for comments, Zuko. But just so you know, Aang tried out last week and ran 5k in 17:30."

I heard surprised whistles and murmurs from the rest of the team. It didn't seem possible that a skinny kid with short legs could be running at the varsity level.

"Hi, everyone!" Aang said eagerly. "I'm really looking forward to being on the team. I promise I won't let you down! I'm sure —"

"Enough talking, boys," Coach said, thankfully interrupted the stream of nonsense from the Bald One. "Get running. We'll start out easy, in case some of you have been sitting on your butts all summer. Four miles!"

I headed out to the track at a slow pace, relieved to finally be able to ignore all the prattling and concentrate on the burn and stretch of my muscles, the feel of my breath coming in and out. That is, until His Shortness decided to tag along at my side.

"Hi! I'm Aang! We had English together this morning. Do you remember? You're Zuko, right?"

My plan was to ignore him and hope he got bored and went on to pester someone else.

"Hey, why does everyone call you The Prince?"

I almost stumbled. The little brat had been busy on his first day.

"I think it's like a nickname, because you're so rich. But some of the kids say you're kind of arrogant, too."

I picked up my pace, trying to shake him, but he kept up with me. Finally I decided there was no way to avoid speaking to him. Maybe if I pissed him off, he'd leave me alone. "Hey, kid. What did the Buddhist say to the hot dog vendor?"

"Buddhists don't eat hot dogs. We're vegetarians."

I groaned. "It's a joke, idiot. He said 'Make me one with everything.' Get it?"

Aang burst out laughing and fell back to catch his breath. Finally! Peace and quiet! But it didn't last.

"Hey, I've got one too!" he said as he caught up to me again. "What did the Buddha say when the hot dog vendor asked him if he wanted his change?"

"I don't care."

"No! That's not it. He said, 'Change must come from within.'" Aang laughed again but didn't drop back this time. I could feel the sweat dripping down my back and was starting to feel the strain in my muscles, but just kept running easily and looking at me with a big, stupid grin on his face. "Isn't that great?"

"Great, kid. Just great."

It was going to be a long year. As I finished my last lap, and started to cool down, Coach came over to me with his stop watch.

"Good job, Zuko! That's your personal best."

He showed me the time, and I couldn't believe it. I was just trying to get away from that little brat, I hadn't even been paying attention to my running, and somehow I'd made my best time?

"Aang, great job! You made the same time as Zuko!"

What the fuck? The kid matched my best time, on his first day of practice? I gritted my jaw and stalked around the track, trying to put some distance between us so I wouldn't have to hear his grating, cheerful voice. Father expected me to get the best score on the team, to go to Regionals, to win. He wanted Stanford to sign me for a sports scholarship. Everything had been going as planned, there had been no one in my way…until _he_ arrived.

No way was I going to let him outrun me. For the sake of my Father, for my honor, I was going to do whatever I had to do to win. By the time I was through with Aang, he'll wish he'd never heard of Four Nations.


	5. Chapter 5: Motivation

**Title:** The Taming of the Shrew  
**Author:** setlib  
**Rating:** T-rated for language and sexual content  
**Setting:** Alternate Universe – modern high school, no bending  
**Pairings:** Zuko x Katara  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own the rights to any characters from Avatar: The Last Airbender.

**Summary:** Zuko and Katara are seniors in high school. He teases her, then ignores her. She despises him. But when Zuko's father kicks him out of the house and he has to move in with his hippie Uncle Iroh, he begins to see Katara in a new light. But as the bard warned, "the course of true love never did run smooth."

o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o

**The Taming of the Shrew, Chapter 5: Motivation**

I hopped off the bus and headed for home. It was about a half-mile walk down the meandering drive from the bus stop to where our old Lighthouse Inn perched on the coast. The weather was nice, though, the cool breeze off the ocean making the hot sun bearable. Suki was going to drive Sokka home after football practice later, so for right now I tried to enjoy the relative peace and quiet.

I checked the mailbox on the way. Empty. I turned back to the road and tried to ignore the sense of disappointment I felt. Maybe it would come tomorrow.

"Gran Gran! I'm home!" I called as I opened the French doors on the front patio and walked into the small dining room where we served dinner for our guests. Right now there were only two couples staying at the inn, so we'd make a small meal tonight. But on busy weekends at the height of the tourist season we could be cooking for over thirty people, if you counted guests and locals.

"In here, Katara!"

I walked into the kitchen and dropped my backpack on the floor. Gran Gran shuffled over to pull me into a delicate hug, the top of her head barely coming to my shoulder. With her wrinkled face and snow-white hair, it was hard to believe she had ever been my age, but her smile was dearer to me than anything else in the world.

"Where's Dad?"

"He offered to drive the Browns to the airport."

I shook my head. "What, San Francisco? That's, like, a three hour drive round-trip! They'd better give him a big tip!"

"You know your father. He can't say 'no,' especially to a customer."

"Hey, kiddo." Pakku strode into the kitchen and grabbed an apple out of the fruit bowl, taking a loud bite.

"Did you have a client?" I asked. He was wearing his normal baggy jeans, holey t-shirt, and worn sandals. But he had pulled his long gray hair back into a pony tail, which usually meant he had been working.

He nodded. "One of your guests wanted an hour-long massage. I just finished. I'm sorry I couldn't stall him until you got home from school. It would have been good practice for you."

I shrugged. Pakku was the resident massage therapist at the swanky Hot Springs Resort, which had a swimming pool and tennis courts and every other amenity you could imagine. But ever since we opened our spa, he'd started driving down here to handle our occasional appointments. For the past six months he'd been training me on the different forms of massage, and while I wasn't certified yet, I could still pitch in. "Maybe next time you won't have to look over my shoulder. I think I'm ready to handle a client by myself!"

He laughed. "Soon. Don't go getting ahead of yourself. There are still a few things you can learn from an old master like me."

Gran Gran wrapped an arm around his waist. "You may be old, but you've got magic hands."

Pakku leaned down to give her a big kiss and I turned away. _Ewwww_. I mean, I loved my grandmother, and I wanted her to be happy. Pakku was a nice guy – he had actually been her high school sweetheart, but then he'd moved away and they hadn't seen each other again until he started helping us out with our spa. Whenever he was around, she got a cute little blush on her cheeks and an extra spring in her step. But that did _not_ mean I wanted to watch them fondle each other in front of me, because then I started thinking about old people getting naked. Yuck.

"See ya later, squirt. Bye, Kanna-pie," Pakku said, nodding to me and then giving Gran Gran a pat on the behind. He ambled out to his beat up old van covered in "Peace" signs and bumper stickers with sayings like, 'Old hippies never die, they just go up in smoke' and 'Honk if you need a massage.'

"Oh, honey, I almost forgot - I have a surprise for you!" Gran Gran waved a hand at the wooden table and I saw it, the large white envelope I'd been waiting for, sitting on top of a stack of mail. Excitement raced through me as I ran to the table and ripped it open.

"Do you have to fill out the whole thing?" she asked, peering around my shoulder.

"No, mostly it's just brochures. The form should only be a few pages long." I flipped through the paperwork until I found it – the application for the Culinary Institute of America. I quickly scanned it while my heart pounded in my chest, hope and doubt warring within me. I wanted this so bad, wanted to become a licensed pastry chef, maybe even open my own bakery someday. But how could I leave Dad? And, more importantly, how could I possibly pay for it? Tuition was nearly $30,000 for a two-year degree! Gran Gran had encouraged me to at least look into applying, but she didn't have any more money than we did. There was no guarantee I'd be able to get enough scholarships and grants to cover the costs. I looked at the bottom of the form and sucked in my breath.

"What is it, honey?"

"It costs _two hundred dollars_ just to _apply_. Non-refundable! Where am I going to get two hundred dollars?" I threw the papers down on the table. "This is stupid! I'm never going to be able to go to this school!"

"Maybe if you just ask your Dad to help you with the application fees —"

I shook my head. "How can I expect him to waste his money on such a crazy idea? Just forget it." I snatched up an apron and tied it around my waist. "We've got to get started prepping dinner. Baked chicken, right? And I was going to make a blueberry cheesecake." Then I did what I always did when I felt frustrated. I threw myself into my cooking.

I'd been doing a lot of cooking lately.

A few hours later, when I had finished serving dinner to our guests, Gran Gran told me she'd finish the cleanup by herself. I grabbed my backpack and walked to our family's cottage to start my homework. The original lighthouse on the property was still a tourist attraction. Two years ago we had expanded the old caretaker's house into our current little restaurant, offices, and spa. The idea was that, during the off season when there weren't many tourists, we'd still be able to make some income if locals visited the restaurant and spa. So far they hadn't generated much business, although I was hoping to create some signature desserts and start looking for some catering jobs, too.

There were eight bungalows on the property and our guests were mostly older couples looking to relax, get away from the city, maybe walk on the rocky beach or do some whale-watching in between their wine-tastings. Our house was off to the side to give us a little bit of privacy. I unlocked the door, flipped on the lights, and went straight to my tiny bedroom. There was no space for a desk, just a bed and dresser, but at least I didn't have to share it. I had painted the walls a light ocean blue color that always helped me relax, with bright white drapes for contrast. I curled up on my bed and took my math and science homework out of my backpack, hoping to get that finished before I got too tired. Sokka came home at some point and clomped down the hallway, ran the shower (probably leaving his towel on the floor), then shut himself in his room with his music blaring.

It was after nine when I finally pulled out my copy of _The Taming of the Shrew_ and started flipping through the assignment for tomorrow. I had managed to get thoughts of Zuko out of my head for the past few hours, but now they returned with a vengeance. As I scanned the scene we'd be forced to read aloud, my mind spun with all the ways he might try to tease me, to get back at me for embarrassing him in front of his friends today. I could just imagine what would happen. He'd turn his golden gaze on me with an arrogant smirk, then start talking in that deep husky voice, and my brain would freeze. I would be easy pickings for him.

I had to prepare. I needed a plan. Reluctantly, I picked up my cell phone and dialed a number I never thought I'd call voluntarily.

"Toph? I need your help."


	6. Chapter 6: Act Three

**Title:** The Taming of the Shrew  
**Author:** setlib  
**Rating:** T-rated for language and sexual content  
**Setting:** Alternate Universe – modern high school, no bending  
**Pairings:** Zuko x Katara  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own the rights to any characters from Avatar: The Last Airbender.

**Summary:** Zuko and Katara are seniors in high school. He teases her, then ignores her. She despises him. But when Zuko's father kicks him out of the house and he has to move in with his hippie Uncle Iroh, he begins to see Katara in a new light. But as the bard warned, "the course of true love never did run smooth."

o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o

**The Taming of the Shrew, Chapter 6: Act Three**

I got to English early in the morning, taking my seat and then turning toward the door. I didn't want to miss the moment Katara walked into the classroom and saw me. Today her character was going to get put in her place. And so was she.

Soon the room began to fill and people sat down on either side of me. I wanted to scowl and tell them to leave room for Katara, so I would be close enough to see the pink blush stain her cheeks when I got her all worked up, but of course I couldn't say anything like that. The bell rang and Mrs. Jennings started talking, and I found myself feeling oddly deflated. It wasn't like her to be late to class. Wasn't she coming?

Moments later the door opened and Katara waltzed in with a smile. Mrs. Jennings was still taking roll, and Katara walked right past me to take an open seat near the window. She didn't even look at me. Now I was getting curious. What was she up to?

Neither of our characters were in Scene One, and of course the people reading stumbled over all the unfamiliar vocabulary and took forever to get through their lines. Finally we got to Scene Two, and when Katara's part came up, she began insulting Petruchio with loud enthusiasm:

_KATHARINA: No shame but mine: I must, forsooth, be forced  
To give my hand opposed against my heart  
Unto a mad-brain rudesby full of spleen; _

Katara paused then. "Mrs. Jennings, what's a rudesby?"

I tapped a finger on my desk thoughtfully. Katara had never asked about any of the words yesterday, and the definitions were right in the book. Why was she interrupting the reading for this?

"Excellent question!" the teacher said. "Based on the context, what do you think it is?"

"I guess it would be a rude person?"

"Yes! Very good. Now—"

Katara interrupted. "Or, like, a jerk?"

"Well, yes, in modern slang."

"And what about 'mad-brain?' Does that mean crazy?"

"No! It means hot-tempered, rash. Shakespeare's well-known for having splendidly creative insults in his plays."

"So, Petruchio's a hot-tempered jerk."

"That's what Katharina is thinking at this point in the play, yes. So—"

"And what does 'full of spleen' mean?" Katara continued, her face a picture of innocent curiosity.

"That means irritable, or vindictive. You see, in Shakespeare's time, people believed that people's moods, or 'humours,' were located in the organs, and—"

"So Petruchio's basically a vindictive, rash jerk," Katara said firmly. "Someone who's willing to treat even his fiancée badly, show up late to the wedding, embarrass her in public, and generally make an ass of himself. And he thinks he's so great, he doesn't even realize that everyone else thinks he's an asshole."

Other students snickered and Mrs. Jennings turned to Katara with a frown. "Miss Iweda, I think you've made your point. Please continue reading where you left off."

"Yes, ma'am," Katara replied meekly. But just before she started reading, she glanced up, looked directly at me, and smirked.

So that's how she was going to play it. Everything she wanted to say to me, but couldn't, she was going to say about Petruchio. Like an insult-by-proxy. Not a bad strategy, except there was one glaring fault in her plan. It could just as easily work against her. I felt an unfamiliar thrill of excitement as I began reading ahead to craft my counter-strategy.

The other characters discussed Katharina and the wedding until finally the two of us confronted each other:

_PETRUCHIO: O Kate, content thee; prithee, be not angry. _

_KATHARINA: I will be angry: what hast thou to do?  
I see a woman may be made a fool,  
If she had not a spirit to resist. _

_PETRUCHIO: Nay, look not big, nor stamp, nor stare, nor fret;  
I will be master of what is mine own:  
She is my goods, my chattels; she is my house,  
My household stuff, my field, my barn,  
My horse, my ox, my ass, my any thing; -_

"I think Petruchio's the ass," Katara interrupted loudly.

"Miss Iweda!" the teacher exclaimed.

"Excuse me, I mean he's the jerk. How could he say all that stuff about owning Katharina, like she was a thing?"

"You see, back in the Elizabethan era —"

"Because, legally, she was his property," I said, ignoring Mrs. Jennings to look directly at Katara. "Married women couldn't vote, or own land. They were required to obey their husbands." I made sure to stretch out the word 'obey' and was rewarded when her eyes widened.

"But married women were still people! They were entitled to basic human dignity and respect! To compare them to an animal, like a horse, is ridiculous!" she protested.

"Is it?" I countered. "Men could beat their wives, just like they could beat their horses. In fact there was a piece of furniture created for that purpose. It was called the whipping stool. The disobedient wife would have to bend over one end of it," I raised my hands to illustrate, "with her hands tied to the other end. Her husband would get a birch stick made just for whipping, and stand close behind her, then pull up her skirts until—"

"Mr. Fujiwara! That's enough!"

Katara was getting flustered now. "Why would she marry a jerk like him!" she asked Mrs. Jennings. She was ostensibly talking about Petruchio, but she pointed at me. "Katharina had turned away all the other suitors, but when she meets him, she barely puts up a fight! Why doesn't she run away or something? Why is she going through with the wedding?"

"Because she wants him," I said.

"She most certainly does not!" Katara was quivering with so much outrage, I thought she was going to fall out of her seat.

"She wants to be married just as much as any other woman. But all those other suitors got scared off too easily. Petruchio is the first man she's met who is strong enough to stand up to her. Secretly, she wants a man to dominate her."

"That's ridiculous! Why would she want that?"

"Actually, that's a common interpretation of this scene." Mrs. Jennings tried desperately to rein in our discussion. "What is Shakespeare trying to say about the nature of gender roles? What choices did women have for a happy life?"

"What I think is interesting," I said, "is that Katharina continues to make a show of protesting, even though she really wants to be married. Why doesn't she become obedient right away?"

"Because she despises him!"

I smiled. Katara fell so easily into my trap. "I think it's because she's afraid to express her own desires. She's trapped in a prison of her own making until someone strong enough to break through can release her. Basically," I looked right at her, held her gaze, and lowered my voice, "Katara's sexually repressed."

Katara's jaw dropped open, and she was unable to do anything except sputter indignantly.

"Did I say Katara? Sorry, I meant Katharina."

I leaned back in my chair, satisfied. As the teacher tried to redirect the class with more vocabulary lessons, I let myself enjoy the pink blush that I'd finally brought to Katara's cheeks. She was breathing heavily, staring at me, her jaw tight with anger, and I suddenly realized that she was absolutely beautiful. Stunning, really, despite her fierce expression. Or perhaps because of it.

Maybe Petruchio was on to something.


	7. Chapter 7: Grip

**Title:** The Taming of the Shrew  
**Author:** setlib  
**Rating:** T-rated for language and sexual content  
**Setting:** Alternate Universe – modern high school, no bending  
**Pairings:** Zuko x Katara  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own the rights to any characters from Avatar: The Last Airbender.

**Summary:** Zuko and Katara are seniors in high school. He teases her, then ignores her. She despises him. But when Zuko's father kicks him out of the house and he has to move in with his hippie Uncle Iroh, he begins to see Katara in a new light. But as the bard warned, "the course of true love never did run smooth."

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**The Taming of the Shrew, Chapter 7: Grip**

For the second day in a row, I bolted out of English class as soon as the bell rang. Toph was waiting for me before Statistics started, lounging outside the classroom door.

"So, how'd it go?"

"He's insufferable!" I threw my stuff onto a desk and sat down.

"Did you come in late like I told you, so he couldn't psych you out before class started?" Toph asked, sitting behind me.

"Yes!"

"And did you ignore him completely?"

"Yes! I didn't even look at him!"

"Were you able to slip the insults into the class discussion?"

"Yes!" I pounded the desk in frustration. "But he figured out what I was doing right away, and then he started doing it, too. He even said I was sexually repressed!"

Toph snickered. "That's a good one."

"That's not helpful! Besides, it's not true."

"Sugar Queen, it is soooo true. He's got you pegged."

I crossed my arms on my desk and dropped my forehead onto them. "All I know is, he started saying all these suggestive things, and I got flustered, and then I just froze up. Again."

"Since he's so much better at insults than you, I think you've got to change your strategy. Even with me feeding you lines in advance, you still can't keep up with him. The way I see it, you have two choices: one, ignore him completely. He's enjoying watching you get upset. So if you can stop reacting to his comments, he may get bored and leave you alone."

"I don't think that's possible," I mumbled. "I try, but he always knows just what to say to provoke me. What's the other option?"

"Two, just admit that you have the hots for him."

My head shot up and I turned back to face her. "Not you, too! Why do people keep saying that?"

"Uh, because it's obvious?"

I felt like pulling my hair out in frustration. "Look, the important point here is that I want him to stop acting like such a jerk. I don't know why he keeps picking on me!"

"I've said it before, and I'll say it again: For someone so smart, you sure are dumb."

"Toph! What are you talking about?"

"He's not picking on you – he's coming on to you. He's trying to get your attention because he likes you."

I shook my head. "That makes absolutely no sense. If he liked me, then he should be treating me nice. Not making me upset!"

"Look, some of us just lack the social skills to admit to someone that we like them. So we get their attention any way we can, even if it's through teasing."

"We?" I asked. Toph picked at her fingernails, avoiding my gaze. "Do you mean there's someone you like? Who is it?"

She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. "From now on, you're on your own, Sweetness. Make up your mind. Do you want Zuko's attention, or not?"

_That's the problem_, I thought as I turned around in my seat to face the board. _I'm not sure anymore_.

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I wasn't ready to face him at Break, so I ducked into the library. Making my way over to one of the sturdy wooden tables in a quiet corner, I settled down to do a few minutes' worth of homework. I pulled my math notebook out and began sketching some charts. But I'd barely started when I suddenly felt gooseflesh tingle along my arm. I turned to see Zuko walking up behind me. I couldn't help it – I jumped.

"What is that, your diary?" he teased, sliding into the seat next to mine and leaning back, one arm draped leisurely over the side of the chair as if he owned it. "Are you writing down all your naughty thoughts about me?"

"It's statistics homework, genius. Does your girlfriend know you're stalking me?"

He smiled and shifted his weight, leaning forward, elbows on the table. The sunlight glinted off his dark hair and my stomach clenched as he came near. Damn, he was good looking. He lowered his voice to that husky rumble that was becoming so familiar, and looked at me playfully. "I just thought you might want to practice our scene tomorrow. Have you read it yet?"

I shook my head warily.

"It's our wedding night, remember? You're going to be doing a lot of moaning."

Alarmed, I scrambled in my backpack and pulled out my copy of the play, trying to flip ahead to Scene Four. Laughing, he grabbed my wrist.

"I'm just joking, Katara. Relax. It's so easy getting a rise out of you."

Relieved, I let my hand drop to the table, palm up. He relaxed his grip on my wrist, his fingers sliding along the sensitive veins until his hand rested over mine, his large palm lying heavily on top of my own. I glanced down at our hands, nearly entwined, but didn't pull away. I looked up to meet his gaze. He didn't pull away either. The moment seemed to stretch out, a secret truce measured in painful heartbeats.

Oh. My. God.

Toph had totally been right. Zuko had a crush on me! Suddenly I realized that I actually had some measure of power over him. He'd been driving me crazy the past few days. But could I drive him crazy too?

I shifted forward in my chair, leaning my elbows on the table, mirroring his position. This brought our faces close together, so close that I could feel his breath against my lips. He smelled spicy, like cinnamon, or maybe peppermint. I was tempted to find out which it was. I licked my lips and his eyes widened.

"Do you like it, Zuko?" I whispered.

He blinked. "Like what?"

I let a slow smile curve my lips. Had he already forgotten what we'd been talking about? "Getting a rise out of me. You said it was easy. You keep doing it to me. Over and over. You like it, don't you?"

His grip tightened on my hand and he began to pull me toward him. My gaze dropped to his lips, thin but wide, as he narrowed the distance between us. Suddenly the library door swung open and we both jerked apart guiltily. He pushed back from the table, his chair squeaking sharply against the floor, and looked down at me.

"Yeah, I like it. I like it a lot," he said huskily, then left me sitting there alone while he stalked out of the room.

I should have felt the thrill of victory. I used his own tactics against him, and I did it all on my own. I held my ground against Zuko, until he got flustered and fled. But instead all I felt was a hollow sense of emptiness, a loss, as if all the heat and life in the room had left with him.


	8. Chapter 8: Pathos

**Title:** The Taming of the Shrew  
**Author:** setlib  
**Rating:** T-rated for language and sexual content  
**Setting:** Alternate Universe – modern high school, no bending  
**Pairings:** Zuko x Katara  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own the rights to any characters from Avatar: The Last Airbender.

**Summary:** Zuko and Katara are seniors in high school. He teases her, then ignores her. She despises him. But when Zuko's father kicks him out of the house and he has to move in with his hippie Uncle Iroh, he begins to see Katara in a new light. But as the bard warned, "the course of true love never did run smooth."

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**The Taming of the Shrew, Chapter 8: Pathos**

After my encounter with Katara in the library, I needed the mental clarity of running more than ever. I got to cross country practice early that afternoon and started warming up right away. I was down on the grass, stretching my legs, when an annoying voice chirped above my head.

"Why couldn't the Buddhist vacuum the sofa?"

I looked up to find Aang standing over me with a wide grin. "Huh?"

"Because he didn't have any attachments!" Chuckling, the boy sat down on the grass and began stretching next to me. "That's a good one, isn't it?"

I ignored him, but of course that didn't discourage him.

"Hey, I noticed you and Katara had quite a debate in English this morning."

I stood and walked away, stretching out my arms and shoulders, but he followed me.

"I think Katara's really great. She's been showing me around school, helping me find my classes and everything. She's really pretty, too. _Really_ pretty. But I think maybe you should try being a little nicer to her. She'd probably like it if you were a little more friendly."

I couldn't believe this. I was getting advice on women from a boy monk? And he'd been hanging out with Katara? Not that it was any of my business. I didn't care who she hung out with. Did I?

"Remember: _A little kindness goes a long way_."

I snorted. "Who said that? Buddha?"

"No," he replied earnestly. "Depeche Mode."

Coach Rodriguez blew his whistle and I jogged to the track, shaking my head. Aang was seriously annoying.

"Since four miles was so easy for you guys yesterday, I've got good news. Today you're running eight miles!" I heard some groans from the team, but I smiled. The longer the better. I wanted to run until I was too exhausted to think anymore.

Unfortunately Aang started out a little ahead of me. I tried to pass him, get him out of my sight, but no matter how I picked up my pace he always stayed frustratingly out of reach. It began to feel like I was chasing him, around and around, getting close at times but never actually able to catch him.

Less than an hour later when I finished, covered in sweat and breathing hard, Coach came up to me. "Great job, Zuko! Another personal best. Keep it up!"

But the words rang hollow. I might have beat my previous score, but I didn't beat Aang. I had pushed myself to my limit, but he'd been quicker and had finished just ahead of me. As the team surrounded Aang, congratulating him on his win, I stalked to the parking lot and slid into my Mercedes-Benz SL Night Edition, punching on the radio to a loud metal station that reflected my mood. I was really starting to hate that kid.

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A little while later, I pulled onto the grounds of our estate. The vineyard, Father's newest hobby, stretched out over 1500 acres and produced several labels of high-end wine. Our house had once belonged to a 1980's British rock star who, after decades of problems with drugs and failed marriages, had been forced to put the estate up for sale to pay off his creditors. Father picked it up for a cool $35 million, which wasn't bad considering it was 12,000 square feet with two pools (one indoor, one outdoor), a home gym, and a two-story library.

I cruised by the fountain in the large driveway, past the former stables which had been converted into a wine-tasting room and boutique storefront for tourists, and into the 6-car garage behind the house. Azula's red Porsche Cabriolet was already there, as I expected, but I was surprised to see Father's Bentley as well. It was unusual for him to be home this early.

I grabbed my bags and climbed up the stairs from the garage to the main part of the house. Father was in his office, talking to Zhao about something. Zhao had worked for my father for over ten years and I still wasn't completely sure what his job was. He didn't have a title, he just took care of anything and everything my father needed, including serving as secretary, driver, manager, bodyguard, vintner, and whatever else the situation called for. Lately I had found it increasingly difficult to get past Zhao to even speak to my father. With his perpetual frown, crooked nose, and steroid-enhanced biceps, he guaranteed there were no unwanted interruptions, even from me. I was surprised when Father saw me and waved me into his office to speak with him.

"I understand congratulations are in order." Father leaned back in his chair and smiled, his teeth a bright white, his face handsome as a movie star, his suit fitting with a subtle elegance only a great deal money could buy.

I nodded to Zhao and then turned to Father. I knew better than to show any confusion at his question, even though he had probably left it vague on purpose to keep me off guard.

After a few moments of silence, he spoke again. "I just got off the phone with Coach Rodriguez. He tells me you made your personal best today. That's great news. Are you proud of yourself?"

I allowed myself to relax a little and smile back. "Yes, sir."

"I was thinking we could celebrate this weekend. How about a round of golf at the club Saturday morning?"

"That would be great."

Father stood and came around the edge of his desk. He approached my side, Zhao at my back, and I began to suspect I had relaxed prematurely. His hand came up to clasp my shoulder in a gesture that might have seemed warm and paternal to an observer, but I could feel the steely tension in his grip as his thumb dug painfully into my collarbone.

"Coach also mentioned that someone else beat your score." His charming smile was still in place, but it contained a cold fury I knew only too well. "A new student. Younger than you!" He looked up at Zhao and laughed. "First my son can't manage to make Team Captain in his senior year, and now he's getting humiliated by some kid!" He turned his black gaze back to me, and my mouth turned dry. "Can you explain this to me, Zuko?"

I knew better than to offer excuses. "I'll beat him next time, sir."

He nodded, his grip on my shoulder tightening. "Yes. Yes, you will." He let go of me and strolled over to the window, looking out onto the gently sloping vineyards. "First, you're going to increase your strength training to one hour every night. Then, you're going to run 5k every morning, in addition to your cross country practices in the afternoon."

Protests clogged my throat, but I swallowed them back. "Yes, sir."

He turned back to look at me. "You're not going to lose again, are you?"

"No, sir."

He nodded, satisfied for the moment. That was my cue for dismissal. I exited the room quietly and bolted up to my bedroom, wanting to throw something, to slam my fist into the wall. Running had been my one escape, the one place where no one could tell me what to do, but now Father had reached his claws into that part of my life as well. I was already tired from practice, and after another hour of weight lifting tonight, I would need to cover my legs with ice packs to keep from cramping up. I walked to my desk and started yanking books out of my backpack, wondering when I was going to find time for homework in between all the training he demanded.

I heard my door open and knew without turning around that only one person would be brazen enough to disturb me.

"Go away, Azula."

"Poor Zuzu. Father is not pleased. What did you screw up this time?"

"Not being an only child."

She laughed and walked over to stand behind me. She reached over my shoulder and grabbed my copy of _The Taming of the Shrew_ off my desk. "Too bad you couldn't get out of this stupid Shakespeare class. Is it terribly boring?"

I thought about it for a moment, then answered her honestly. "It's not boring at all. In fact, I think it's my favorite class."

"Really? I'm sure Mai will be interested to know that your favorite class is one without her in it." Apparently satisfied now that she had found some new ammunition to use against me, Azula tossed the book onto my desk and walked back to the door. "Oh, by the way, Father wanted me to give you a message."

She paused, and I knew she was just waiting so she could more thoroughly enjoy gloating over me. I finally turned around and looked at her. "What is it?"

"Win tomorrow, or don't come home." Azula smiled smugly and then left, closing the door behind her.

I slumped back in my chair. Great. No pressure or anything. Just once it would have been nice to know my Father would be proud of me for doing my best, no matter the outcome. Or to have a sister who sincerely wanted me to succeed, instead of grinning smugly while plotting ways to sabotage me in order to improve her own position.

I flipped through Shakespeare's play, recalling Katara's expressions this morning. She was utterly incapable of hiding her true feelings. All of her emotions – annoyance, embarrassment, even desire – were broadcast across her face for me to see. Such honesty was refreshing, and it made me wonder what other feelings I could evoke in her. Like Petruchio, I was growing tired of our squabbling, tired of the suspicion that clouded her gaze whenever she saw me. I'd seen the warm smiles she gave to her friends, full of easy affection. Just once, I'd like her to look at me and smile like that. Like I was worthy of her friendship – or maybe more. But how would I get her to be more comfortable around me? I turned to tomorrow's reading. Maybe Shakespeare would give me an idea. He'd been doing pretty well so far.

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The next morning I woke up early, ran 5k before my shower, and drove to school. When I got to English class, Katara was already sitting down talking to Aang on her right. I slid into the empty seat on her left and was pleased to hear a hitch in her breath as she tried to ignore me. Still afraid I was going to say something to embarrass her, no doubt. It was time to put my new strategy into action: Zuko Fujiwara, Nice Guy.

"Good morning, Katara," I said politely.

She tensed and then turned to face me. A delightful blush stole across her cheeks. Was she remembering yesterday in the library? "Good morning."

Before I could say anything else, Aang interrupted, pulling her attention back to him. "Hey, Katara, you should come to cross country practice after school today. I've been making great times. I even beat Zuko yesterday. Coach says I might be able to win Regionals if I keep it up."

_That little shit_. Bragging about beating me? To Katara? Hell, no. My "nice guy" strategy only applied to her – Aang could go fuck himself.

I lowered my voice, softened it. "Katara." That's all I had to say, and she turned away from Aang again. She leaned toward me, unconsciously pushing a strand of long brown hair behind her ear. "Would you study with me at Break again? Same place as yesterday?" She didn't reply, but her eyes widened, and I knew. I had her.

"Hey, can I study with you, too?"

Katara didn't turn back to Aang this time. I held her gaze, reached over, and ran my thumb gently along her elbow. She closed her eyes, swallowed, and suddenly it seemed like the rest of the class just disappeared. There was only her. "Say yes," I prodded.

"Yes," she whispered, then opened her eyes. I smiled, careful to keep it warm, friendly, not smug, and withdrew my hand. As much as I wanted to press her further, I knew it would frighten her off right now. Sometimes strategic retreats were the only way to really move forward.

Mrs. Jennings started class, cutting off any further interruptions from Aang. Katara's readings echoed her character's confusion toward her new husband, torn between suspicion and attraction. Petruchio was assertive, yet considerate, making it seem that his forceful will was bent on protecting his wife rather than challenging her. Of course it was all strategy:

_PETRUCHIO: Thus have I politicly begun my reign,  
And 'tis my hope to end successfully.  
To make her come and know her keeper's call,  
This is a way to kill a wife with kindness;  
And thus I'll curb her mad and headstrong humour.  
He that knows better how to tame a shrew,  
Now let him speak: 'tis charity to show._

Petruchio knew a thing or two about women, I thought with a smile. Some things never change.

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Katara managed to ditch Aang and meet me at the library. She was practically quivering with anticipation, but I was a good boy. A perfect gentleman. I kept my hands to myself, my eyes on my work. I could tell it was driving her crazy, waiting for me to say or do something suggestive while I was determined to be on my best behavior. The closest I came to touching her was when I asked to borrow her calculator.

At the end of Break, I had mixed feelings about playing the Nice Guy. On the one hand, I actually got some homework done today. My new training schedule was so exhausting, I fell asleep last night before I finished my work for Calculus, so I was glad I got caught up. On the other hand, it was damned boring wasting the time with Katara on something so mundane. I had a lot more fun when I teased her. The look of sweet confusion on her face right now was some consolation. When the bell rang and I packed up my stuff, she seemed almost disappointed.

"Thanks, Katara. Will you meet me again tomorrow?"

"You just want to – to study?"

I couldn't help teasing her, just a little. "Did you want to do something else?" I chuckled. There was that blush I loved so much. "Yes, I want to study, Katara. You're not the only one with homework. I concentrate really well when I'm around you. Maybe you're a good influence on me." I left the library, letting her mull over my words, already eager for tomorrow to come so I could confound her further.

That afternoon at cross country, I had another plan to put in place. I had figured out a way to beat Aang. I knew that I ran better when I was angry – I channeled my emotions into my running and they fueled me, propelled me forward. But I was betting that Aang, with his pacifist nature, ran better when he was calm. If I got him mad, it would distract him, throw him off balance, and give me a chance to bury him. And I knew just how to do it.

I walked over to him during warm-ups and got his attention. "How can you tell if a Buddhist is schizophrenic?"

Aang smiled at me. "I don't know. How?"

"Because he's at two with the universe."

He laughed. "Good one."

Now it was time to see how quickly I could get him angry. "Sorry Katara ditched you at Break today. That's rough."

"She didn't ditch me. She had to study."

"Yeah, I know. She was with me."

Aang started walking toward the track. His gait was stiff with irritation. Good. "You gave me some advice yesterday, so I want to return the favor. Stop following Katara around like some kind of damned puppy. It's really annoying."

He glanced at me. "Did she tell you that?"

"It's obvious. Look, kid, Katara's a nice person—"

"Really nice."

"_Too_ nice. She's trying so hard not to hurt your feelings, she's not being honest with you."

"What do you mean?"

"I can tell you have a crush on her. But you need to understand, she's never going to be able to like you back. Not that way."

Coach Rodriguez blew his whistle for everyone to get to their starting positions, but Aang ignored him. "How do you know that?"

I shrugged and strolled casually toward the starting line, with him following me. "Just think about it. You're too young, too short, too naïve, too inexperienced for a woman like her. She needs a man, not a boy."

His hands were clenched into fists now. "And you're trying to get her to pick you, is that it?"

I smirked and leaned closer, lowering my voice so no one else could hear. "I don't have to try. She already picked me. Do you really think all we were doing was studying during Break?"

The whistle blew again and I took off, running for all I was worth. I was out in front, not daring to waste a second on the energy it would take to look behind me and see where Aang was. I took all my frustrations – over Father, Azula, Mai, Aang, Katara – and poured them into my feet, pounding them onto the pavement. When I finally passed the finish line, I felt exhausted, cleansed, and triumphant. Aang was nearly an entire lap behind, his face set in a scowl. I grinned.

I had finally found a strategy that I could use to beat him: No More Mr. Nice Guy.

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**Author's Note: **Some reviewers commented that my chapters are short. That's partially because I switch POV at each chapter, and I don't want to spend too long in one character's head without balancing it out and showing you what's going on with the other character. Also the beginning of the story has had a lot of introduction of settings and characters, which I find rather boring, so I've tried to compensate by keeping the pace quick. However I did try to make this one longer and the next one will be long as well. Let me know if you like the longer ones, or you think it slows the pace or you miss the POV of the other characters. Thanks for the feedback!


	9. Chapter 9: Gesture

**Title:** The Taming of the Shrew  
**Author:** setlib  
**Rating:** T-rated for language and sexual content  
**Setting:** Alternate Universe – modern high school, no bending  
**Pairings:** Zuko x Katara  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own the rights to any characters from Avatar: The Last Airbender.

**Summary:** Zuko and Katara are seniors in high school. He teases her, then ignores her. She despises him. But when Zuko's father kicks him out of the house and he has to move in with his hippie Uncle Iroh, he begins to see Katara in a new light. But as the bard warned, "the course of true love never did run smooth."

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**The Taming of the Shrew, Chapter 9: Gesture**

The rest of the week was really strange. Aang was sullen in class, grumbling, but Zuko was…nice, actually. He was subdued, maybe a little tired, but very considerate. Complimentary. Even studious. In the course of a week, my opinion of Zuko had shifted from indifference, to furious disdain, to wary affection. He no longer made me uncomfortable in class. He still teased me, but either he was gentler or I was just getting used to his sense of humor, because I often found myself laughing along with him:

_KATHARINA: Husband, let's follow, to see the end of this ado._

_PETRUCHIO: First kiss me, Kate, and we will._

_KATHARINA: What, in the midst of the street?_

_PETRUCHIO: What, art thou ashamed of me?_

_KATHARINA: No, sir, God forbid; but ashamed to kiss._

_PETRUCHIO: Why, then let's home again. Come, sirrah, let's away._

_KATHARINA: Nay, I will give thee a kiss: now pray thee, love, stay._

_PETRUCHIO: Is not this well? Come, my sweet Kate:  
Better once than never, for never too late._

We didn't kiss, of course, in the middle of class. But he held my gaze, and I could tell he was thinking about it. And to be perfectly honest, so was I. By the end of the week I found myself looking forward to seeing Zuko each morning, and thinking about him each night. When the weekend came, I realized I would actually miss him.

Saturday morning, like always, I went to the Farmer's market to stock up on fresh fruits and vegetables for the week. Apples were just coming into season, they were still a little small and sour, but would be perfect for apple pie. I bought everything I needed for the restaurant and loaded it into our battered white pickup truck. I pulled into our parking lot mid-morning and noticed Pakku's van already in the driveway.

"Gran Gran! I'm back!" I called as I carried a basket of apples into the kitchen. The air smelled rich and sweet, I noted with satisfaction as I checked on the loaves of zucchini bread I had baked earlier that morning. They were cool now and would be ready to serve with brunch. I would wrap up the extra loaves and see if maybe we could sell them.

"Hey kid," Pakku said as he came down the stairs. "I'm glad you're back! Your Gran is getting the massage rooms ready. I just got a call, two clients are coming in about half an hour."

"At the same time?"

He nodded. "You know what that means –"

"My first solo job!" I squealed.

"Now, you can't charge as much, since you're not licensed yet. Just $20 for a half hour. But you get to keep all of it, plus tips."

I grinned. Even though the $200 I needed for the application to cooking school was still a long way off, every little bit would help. Pakku helped me carry in the rest of the bags and unpack them in the kitchen.

"What's this?" He held up small packages of dried cherries and cocoa powder.

"Oh, I had an idea for my own gourmet chocolates. I started them this morning, but they needed a little something extra. If they're good, I thought maybe we could sell them, in packages of four or something?"

He reached out and flicked my pony tail. "You're always thinking, Katara. I like that."

I laughed and brought out the trays of cooled chocolates. I had formed them into smooth half-globes. They were delicious, rich and creamy, but plain. "Look at this," I said, pulling out a scoop of cocoa powder, mixing it with some ground espresso beans, and dusting the combination lightly over the candies. They were a rich brown now, about the color of my skin. I put a tiny half of a dried cherry on top. "What do you think?

He raised an eyebrow. "Well, they kind of…I mean, they look a little like…" He cleared his throat. "Uh, they look great." He grabbed one and popped it in his mouth, then nodded. "What are you going to call them?"

"I guess, chocolate cherries? Or mocha cherry drops? Something like that?"

"Keep thinking about it. You'll come up with something." He glanced at the clock. "Here, let me put the rest of this away. Go change your clothes. The clients will be here soon."

I raced over to our cottage and into my room. The ratty old jeans and sweatshirt I was wearing were sturdy, perfect for the Farmer's Market, but Pakku always stressed how important it was to wear something comfortable for a massage. I slipped on a soft white t-shirt and a blue cotton skirt that swirled delicately around my knees. I dragged a brush through my hair and then swiftly braided it so it wouldn't get in the way. By the time I finished and stepped back outside, an expensive silver car was already parked in the driveway.

I walked into the small renovated lobby that served as our spa entrance and Pakku waved me forward. "It's a father and son, they just came from golfing at the country club."

"Well, la-dee-da," I laughed.

He snorted and we headed upstairs to the rooms. "Yeah, but they might tip well. I'll take care of the old guy, he seems pretty picky. You handle the son. He just wanted the regular Swedish massage, although keep in mind he's an athlete, so there might be more muscle strain than with the usual tourists. He's already changing in room two. Just remember to act professional and you should be fine."

"No problem." Pakku disappeared into the first suite and I paused outside the second one. I took a deep breath and smoothed my clothes. I could do this. I had given over thirty massages with Pakku mentoring me. I knew the most popular techniques, and had built up the necessary strength in my hands and arms. Most of all, I liked the opportunity to help people, to make them feel better if they were hurting. I was ready.

I knocked softly and opened the door. The glare from the windows on the other side of the room overlooking the ocean blinded me momentarily. Gran Gran had lit sandalwood candles – a very masculine choice – and the relaxing scent calmed me as I stepped inside. A shadowed figure moved away from the windows, and as I walked into the room, it coalesced into a familiar shape. My jaw dropped, my heart pounded in a primal fight-or-flight reaction when I realized who my client was.

"Hello, Katara." Zuko stepped away from the blinding light, the golden glow of the candles reflecting on the wide expanse of his skin. He was completely naked except for a small white towel slung low across his hips. He stood only a few feet in front of me, arms crossed, and his presence seemed to fill the entire room. I knew he was tall, but I felt like he was towering over me now, his chest impossibly broad, the delineated muscles of his arms and abdomen making my mouth go dry.

A host of conflicting thoughts crowded into my head at the same time. I wanted to run out of the room. I wanted to reach out and touch him. Had he planned this just to fluster me? Could I stand to disappoint Pakku? At that last thought, I realized I could take refuge in the training I'd received. I was a professional. He was a client, just like any other client. I could do this.

"Zuko. This is a surprise." I thought my voice was relatively cool and collected.

"The spa at the club was all booked up, so we'd figure we'd try yours." He shrugged, and even that small movement was like living poetry as the candlelight played across the hard curves of his shoulders. I tried to pull my thoughts back into line.

"If you'll just lie down on the table, we can get started." The massage table sat in the center of the room on a permanent wooden frame, with cabinets underneath for storing towels and lotions. Some of our clients needed a step stool to climb on, but Zuko lifted himself up easily.

"Pakku said you wanted the traditional Swedish massage? Are there any particular areas where you're feeling pain or tension?" I held my breath after this introductory question. Zuko could so easily twist this into an opportunity to embarrass me. But he didn't.

"I've been running a lot, so yeah, my calves are sore."

I nodded encouragingly, relieved that he wasn't trying to pull anything, then realized I was bobbing my head like a dork and stopped. I took a calming breath and pulled the face cradle attachment out from the table. "Just lie on your stomach, and put your head here. Try to relax."

I turned away while he shifted into position and moved to the side table with the candles. It also held a CD player, a timer set to a half hour, and some of our essential oils. "Would you like me to turn on some music?"

"No – no music." I heard his voice behind me, slightly muffled. He must lying flat on the table now.

"All right, then. You can pick the oil you want. Grapeseed oil is popular with the tourists."

He snorted. "I see enough grapes every day already. Pick something else."

"How about almond oil?" I said, plucking the bottle off the table. "It's edible." Wait, why did I volunteer that?

"I'll keep that in mind."

Was he laughing? I couldn't quite tell. I turned around to find him stretched out on the table, waiting quietly for me to begin. _Just like any other client_, I reminded myself, pouring some almond oil onto my palm and rubbing my hands briskly to warm it up.

I started at the small of his back, alternating between kneading the muscles there to release tension, and reaching out in long, gliding strokes to promote relaxation. I'd had other clients, especially women, who liked to talk the whole time, or bossy ones who were constantly telling me where and how hard to rub. Zuko didn't speak, didn't even make the moans and groans that most people did. However I could still tell when I hit a sore spot, because I could feel his muscles tense protectively before slowly relaxing. Without speech, I became attuned to each subtle flex and shudder of his body.

I had never had anyone refuse music before, and the sound of my own breathing seemed abnormally loud in the room. In the quiet I found myself becoming absorbed in the sounds made by the slick slide of my flesh against his. I moved up to his shoulders, marveling silently at their beauty, grateful he couldn't see the wonder on my face as I explored the long lines of his arms, the proud bend of his neck.

When I moved to his legs, he began to tense again, and my fingers found evidence of muscle strain and overuse. Buildup of lactic acid was blocking proper blood flow, and I spent a great deal of time kneading and smoothing everything from the backs of his thighs to the soles of his feet. I was feeling very professional when I told him it was time to turn over, until he did, and the thin white towel he was using to cover himself was no match for the massive erection he was sporting.

His knee was bent as he leaned up on one elbow and smiled unapologetically. "See what you do to me?"

_I am a professional. I am a professional. I am a professional._

Pakku had warned me this was fairly common. It was an unconscious physical response, something that couldn't really be controlled. As long as the client wasn't behaving badly, I should try to just stay cool and ignore it. But it was pretty damned hard to ignore six feet of turned-on Zuko right in front of me. The more I tried _not_ to look at his erection, the harder it was to look away.

"Why don't I get you a heavier towel?" I scrambled in the cabinets under the table, handing another towel to Zuko and then finding an excuse to busy myself over by the table with the oils.

When I turned around, he was lying comfortably on his back with the thicker towel bunched across his hips. It didn't help. I might not be able to see the shape of his erection anymore, but I still knew it was there. I took a deep breath and returned to the massage table to finish working on his legs. My palms glided along the tops of his thighs, and each touch took on a different significance now that I knew I was turning him on. It was hard not to think about the fact that I only had to move my hands a few inches, slip them under that towel, and I would be able to measure the length and width of him for myself.

Most clients closed their eyes when they were lying on their backs, but not Zuko. He stared right at me, watching me as I leaned across his body, slid slick fingers across his flesh. He might be on his best behavior, keeping most of his suggestive thoughts to himself, but I could tell by the heat in his gaze that those unspoken thoughts could have set the room ablaze. When it was time for me to move up to work on his chest, I could feel a slow fire burning in my belly as well, robbing me of breath.

I poured more oil onto my hands and spread them slowly across his ribs, down his abdomen, and along the rise of his hips. Strictly speaking, I was going beyond the standard realm of Swedish massage, but I had become awash in sensation. Most of the clients I had seen so far were overweight middle-aged men, covered in hair, soft from inactivity. Zuko's body was smooth, toned, and beautiful. No longer thinking about easing the aches and strain in his muscles, I had lost myself to the pure physical joy of touching him.

I could feel his breathing quicken beneath my hands, his gaze tracing the lines of my body. I realized the white t-shirt I had chosen was too thin, and the outline of my nipples was clearly visible. But I didn't feel embarrassed, or try to cover myself. I was too aroused for that. I watched him watch me, reveling in the desire I saw in his eyes, and felt myself wishing that it was his hands rather than his gaze on me.

But when his hand did rise slowly, it startled me. I had become so used to him lying tamely beneath me, I had forgotten what a dangerous game I was playing. But he didn't touch me, he simply wrapped his hand around the end of my braid, removing the rubber band.

"You have the prettiest hair I've ever seen," he said huskily. He tangled his fingers in my braid briefly, then with a quick flick of his wrist, it began to unravel. My hair flowed over my shoulders, cascading down my arms to fall across his chest. He plucked one lock in his hand, gently curling it around and around his fingers. I leaned over him, still sliding my hands across his biceps, his shoulders, his chest, while he touched nothing except that single stand of my hair.

I reached up to stroke his face, my fingers gliding smoothly to soothe the tension in his forehead, across his high cheekbones. I let myself feel his short black hair, the crew cut tickling my palms until I slid my hands along his ears, toward his thin, wide mouth. My ragged breath echoed loudly in the room as I stoked his lips, leaning over him, ready to discard the pretense that I was still giving him a therapeutic massage, that I was doing anything other than exploring his body for my own pleasure. His gaze held mine, his fingers wrapping around my hair, pulling me closer and closer until I could smell his cinnamon breath, see sparks of dark brown in his golden eyes.

Suddenly a bell chimed and I jumped back guiltily, jerking my hair out of his fingers. "Time's up," I gasped, backing away from him. He sat up, his fierce gaze following me as his body vibrated with tension. I fled across the room, blowing out the candles and putting away the oils. When I turned around he had secured the towel around his waist and walked to the other side of the massage table to pull his wallet out of his pants. He opened it, taking out a wad of cash.

"That was exceptional, Katara. Much more…thorough…than I expected." The biting sarcasm I remembered was back in his voice. "How much do I owe you for your services?" He started pulling off bills and a voice in my head counted…_twenty…forty…sixty…eighty…one hundred_. He dropped the stack onto the massage table, and I felt tears spring to my eyes. This had been the most erotic experience of my life, and he wanted to reduce it to a financial transaction? And yet…it was _so much_ money.

"Take it, Katara. You earned every penny."

I couldn't stand the cool superiority in his voice. "Damn you, I don't want your money."

He smirked. "So you're giving it away for free, then? I'll be sure to tell the rest of the cross country team. You'll be very popular when they find out."

"Shut up!" I snatched the money off the table and fled the room, slamming the door behind me for good measure.

I stomped down the stairs and ran straight into Jun, the manicurist who worked at our salon. She took one look at my face and said, "Honey, what's wrong?"

I sputtered and pointed upstairs, but the only word I could spit out was, "Zuko!"

A look of understanding crossed her face and she pulled me close for a hug. "Say no more. I know as well as anyone what a jerk my nephew can be."

I pulled back. "What do you mean, your nephew?" I looked at what Jun was wearing, her typical dominatrix outfit with black leather thigh-high boots, a black miniskirt and an armored bra that showed off her tattoos, and shook my head. "No, that's not possible. I'm talking about Zuko Fujiwara, he goes to my school."

She nodded. "Yep, that's the one. You know my husband, Iroh? Zuko's Dad is his brother."

My mind refused to make the connection. The old hippie everyone called "Uncle Iroh", who owned the "tea" (otherwise known as "medicinal herb") shop called the Jasmine Dragon? Who slipped all the local children candy and played the French Horn on music night in his teashop? How could he possibly be related to Zuko of all people? "That's impossible! Iroh's so nice, and Zuko is so horrible!"

"We're not allowed to visit Zuko or his sister at all. Iroh used to try to catch them outside of school until his brother threatened him with a restraining order. Iroh keeps insisting that Zuko's a good kid at heart, if we can just get him into AA before it's too late."

"What? He has a drinking problem?"

"No – Not 'Alcoholics Anonymous.' I'm talking about 'Assholes Anonymous.' He needs a serious attitude intervention."

I laughed despite myself. "I guess you really do know him."

"Look, the thing is, his father's a real piece of work. He's got that kid wound up so tight, he doesn't know which way is up. So try to cut him a little slack." Jun sat down behind the desk and flipped open her appointment book. "I've got a mani-pedi scheduled soon, let me finish that, and then we can have a good girl talk over lunch, okay?"

I smiled, feeling better. "And you can try my new creation! I'm making chocolates now!"

"Honey, I never wait for chocolates. Where are they?"

"In the kitchen."

Jun got up. "I'm going to get them. Wait right here."

After she left, I realized my hand was still fisted around the wad of cash from Zuko. I took a deep breath and tried to look at it again without so much emotion. He'd paid for his massage, and given me a generous tip. And for some reason I'd taken that as an insult. I shook my head. Whenever Zuko was involved, it was like all the laws of logic and reason got turned around. I had let myself get turned on, and then got angry when he didn't seem to consider the experience to be as earth-shattering as I did.

I heard the door close, and his footsteps coming down the stairs. I was going to be a big girl this time. No more temper tantrums. If he wanted to drop a hundred dollars on a massage, I wasn't going to discourage him. Heck, he could come back tomorrow, and then I'd have enough money to pay for my college application. I was going to talk to him like a mature adult.

And I was not – was NOT – going to imagine him naked the whole time.


	10. Chapter 10: Foreshadowing

**Title:** The Taming of the Shrew  
**Author:** setlib  
**Rating:** T-rated for language and sexual content  
**Setting:** Alternate Universe – modern high school, no bending  
**Pairings:** Zuko x Katara  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own the rights to any characters from Avatar: The Last Airbender.

**Summary:** Zuko and Katara are seniors in high school. He teases her, then ignores her. She despises him. But when Zuko's father kicks him out of the house and he has to move in with his hippie Uncle Iroh, he begins to see Katara in a new light. But as the bard warned, "the course of true love never did run smooth."

o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o

**The Taming of the Shrew, Chapter 10: Foreshadowing**

I am _such_ an asshole.

I had tried so hard not to spook Katara. I'd bitten my tongue while she ran her clever little fingers all over my body. I'd kept my hands to myself while she stared at my cock under that thin white towel with a potent mixture of embarrassment and curiosity. I hadn't tried to touch her when she leaned over me, her breasts inches from my face, her hair tickling my chest, her pink lips parted. If I had made a move, she would have panicked and backed away. But by lying still and letting her take the lead, letting her discover the strength of her own arousal, all I had to do was wait and she would come to me. I swear, if that damned timer hadn't rung, she would have kissed me for sure. She would have thrust those sweet breasts into my hands, climbed up on the table, spread her legs and slipped my cock inside her….well, maybe not. That last part was probably wishful thinking. I was going to spend a lot of time tonight imagining every possible way that session could have ended, most of which involved her naked and screaming my name.

Considering how turned on I was, I deserved a fucking medal for holding it together that long. When that timer went off and she pulled away from me, I wanted to chase after her, grab her by the hair, and drag her back to the table. Instead I managed to walk away, putting some distance between us. But all that tension found a different release, in the form of biting comments and cruel insinuations. There she was, so aroused she was ready to throw herself at me, and with a few words I managed to infuriate her to the point she probably never wanted to see me again. I realized I had no choice.

I was going to have to apologize.

I finished getting dressed, gingerly easing my pants over my still raging erection, and walked over to the window overlooking the ocean. I leaned my head against the cool glass, taking a few deep breaths, trying to get a grip on myself. Had I just destroyed the fragile truce I had worked so hard to build? Was I ever going to get her to treat me as a friend again? Well, I wasn't going to find out by hiding up here. Time to face the music. Or in this case, the shrew.

I slipped on my shirt and shoes and headed downstairs. I half expected her to have run away, but there she was, leaning against the desk in the lobby, arms crossed, five feet of pissed off female waiting for me. Let the groveling begin.

"Katara, I'm so sorry." Surprise flashed across her face. I guess I'd acted badly around her so often that she'd come to expect it. Is that really what I was like? "I was a total jerk. You have every right to be angry at me."

"I'm not angry," she said in that cold, tight voice that women only used when they were _really_ angry. "You're a client who paid for a service. No more, no less."

Ouch. "I'd like to think that I'm more than just a client to you, Katara. I thought we were friends."

"Friends treat each other with respect."

I nodded my head. "You're right. I screwed up. I was just, well – turned on, and frustrated, and I didn't handle it well. I wouldn't go talking to the guys on the team about you. I don't even know why I said that. I really am sorry."

She sighed. "I think I owe you an apology, too. I overreacted."

"It was my fault you were upset."

"Well, yes, it was your fault. But I could have handled it better."

"So do you forgive me?"

She rolled her eyes. "Okay. I forgive you."

"Does that mean I get a hug?"

"Don't press your luck."

Just then someone walked into the room carrying a plate of candy or something. I did a double-take when I realized who it was. "Aunt Jun! Uh, what are you doing here?"

"Well, 'hello' to you, too, Zuko. I work here part-time."

I nodded awkwardly. Jun was the last person I expected to run into this morning. Father would go ballistic if he saw her. I can't count the number of times he had lectured Azula and me about our responsibility to represent the family name with honor, using Uncle Iroh's pathetic degenerate lifestyle, including his choice of wife, as an example of the shame we were to avoid at all costs.

"Katara, these chocolates are divine!" She picked up one and bit into it, groaning as she chewed. "I've got a friend who owns an erotic bakery in San Francisco. She would definitely be interested in these."

"What in the world is an erotic bakery?" Katara asked.

"Oh, you know. They specialize in cakes shaped like penises, edible underwear, that sort of thing. Like, for bachelorette parties."

Katara was turning a faint shade of pink. "Why on earth would they want my chocolates?"

Jun raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you shape them like this on purpose?"

"Like what?"

I raised a hand to my mouth and coughed to stifle my laughter. I had just gotten out of trouble with Katara not thirty seconds ago. No way was I going to comment.

Jun laughed. "Katara, these chocolates are shaped like boobs! The little cherries even look like nipples!"

Katara leaned over the plate, frowning, and then gasped. "Ohmygod. I didn't realize!"

"What were you going to call these?"

"I hadn't decided on a name yet. Don't worry, I'll make them a different shape!"

"Why? These have so much marketing potential, especially if you name them right." Jun popped the rest of the candy into her mouth. "You could make a sign, like, 'Grab a pair of Katara's Breasts.' That would get business."

Okay, I'm human. I couldn't stop myself. My shoulders shook with laughter as I took one of the chocolates. "Personally, I prefer 'Come and lick Katara's Nipples.' It's very tempting." I waited until she looked at me and then ran my tongue along the top while her eyes widened.

Katara set her jaw and then looked over at the chocolates with a gleam in her eye. She picked one up and then glanced back at me. "I thought you might enjoy 'Eat Katara's Cherry' even more." Her pink tongue darted out and swiped the dried cherry off the top, then she gave me a saucy little smile. I grinned back. There's my girl.

Footsteps sounded on the stairs again and I quickly set the chocolate back on the plate and wiped off my fingers, standing up straight. Jun froze like a deer in the headlights, without enough time to make a run for it. My father came down the stairs and into the room, some old hippie trailing behind him. I knew the moment he saw Jun – his eyebrow raised questioningly, his mouth stretching into a sneer.

"Don't you perform background checks on your employees?" he said to the old guy. "I'm afraid I have to question your judgment in letting ex-felons work here."

Jun snorted. "It was a misdemeanor, as you well know, because not all of us can afford to bribe the cops when we get caught with a bag of weed."

"Well, you can be sure we won't be coming here again." He glanced at Katara, looking her up and down. "We're used to much higher quality service than you're capable of providing."

He left the lobby, heading out to the Bentley, and although I knew I had to follow him quickly, I couldn't leave without saying something to ease the stunned silence in the room. "I'm sorry. He doesn't mean to be rude. He's just—"

"An arrogant asshole who doesn't care about anyone's feelings," Jun finished for me.

I started to leave but Katara reached out to grab my arm. I looked at her in surprise and she blushed, then dropped her hand. "See you Monday," she said.

"Sure. See you Monday." I walked out to the car and climbed in.

Father peeled out of the parking lot without saying anything. I was too irritated to risk speaking. It was bad enough I had to spend the morning watching him suck up to his industry cronies during our golf game. He was considering a run for governor of California in two years and was already trying to secure major corporate donors. One of the CEOs playing with us had brought his son, so Father brought me. Like an accessory.

After we were on the highway, he spoke. "So that's why you wanted to go there."

Baiting me again. I waited.

"Who is she?"

"Jun? My Aunt?"

"Not her, you idiot. The girl who grabbed your arm. Is she the reason you've been neglecting Mai?"

"I – I haven't been neglecting –"

"Azula tells me you've been ignoring her. Now I know why. The girl's pretty, in a coarse kind of way, I'll give you that. So, how much did you pay her?"

"A hundred dollars."

He laughed. "Pretty expensive for a hand job, don't you think?"

"She didn't do anything like that!"

"Look, I understand. Every man needs a little release. But you don't flaunt it in front of your girlfriend by fucking someone as the same school." He pulled out his cell phone and hit the speed dial. "There's an excellent local service I like to use. Very discreet. I'll have them send someone to the house for you tonight."

"I don't want one of your whores!"

He glanced at me and snapped his phone shut. "Oh, I see. It's like that, is it? You think this girl's special?"

I didn't answer. I had already said too much. He was going to make me regret it.

"What do you think that girl sees when she looks at you? Hmmm? A big, fat, paycheck. All she needs to do is get knocked up and it's like winning the lottery. She's nothing but a gold-digging little piece of trash."

My blood was pounding in my head, my jaw clenched, but I didn't take the bait.

He smiled. "Maybe I should go there again by myself sometime and check her out a little more thoroughly. If she worked you over this good for a hundred dollars, I wonder what she'd do for me for a thousand?"

I whipped my head around to look at him and my hands curled into fists. I wanted to punch him right in his artificially whitened teeth. I wanted to wipe that sneer off his face. But I realized his insults had a familiar ring to them. Hadn't I said something similar to Katara when I was angry? How could I be so disgusted by what my Father said and yet, when pushed, act exactly like him?

He tapped his fingers thoughtfully on the steering wheel. "Perhaps I haven't made myself clear." Each word fell from his lips, cold and heavy as ice, and chilled me to the bone. "You are forbidden to speak to that girl again. Azula will be watching you, to make sure you're paying proper attention to your girlfriend. If you disobey me, you _will_ regret it. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." I swallowed my anger, closed my eyes to block out his smug expression. After trying so hard to get Katara to accept me as a friend, I was going to have to cut her out of my life completely.

I really _am_ an asshole.


	11. Chapter 11: Act Five

**Title:** The Taming of the Shrew  
**Author:** setlib  
**Rating:** T-rated for language and sexual content  
**Setting:** Alternate Universe – modern high school, no bending  
**Pairings:** Zuko x Katara  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own the rights to any characters from Avatar: The Last Airbender.

**Summary:** Zuko and Katara are seniors in high school. He teases her, then ignores her. She despises him. But when Zuko's father kicks him out of the house and he has to move in with his hippie Uncle Iroh, he begins to see Katara in a new light. But as the bard warned, "the course of true love never did run smooth."

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**The Taming of the Shrew, Chapter 11: Act Five, Scene Two**

I sat in my usual seat in English Monday morning, anxious for Zuko to arrive. I had been thinking about him nonstop all weekend. He had provoked such a range of emotions in me – embarrassment, anger, frustration, amusement, curiosity, fascination, and, yes, arousal – that I found myself eager to see what he would do next. Especially after the massage session on Saturday, my thoughts had increasingly revolved around finding ways to get him alone, to feel that electric spark, like lightning, that coursed through me when he came too near. Now that I knew each curve of his body, my fingers itched to retrace the lines of his arms, the arch of his back. No longer afraid of embarrassment, I wanted him to talk to me, look at me, tease me. Touch me.

Want me.

He walked into the room just as the bell rang and went straight to the back, settling into an empty seat without so much as glancing at me. Confused, wanting to draw his attention, I poured my heart and soul into my reading of the final scene of _The Taming of the Shrew_:

_KATHARINA: Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper,  
Thy head, thy sovereign; one that cares for thee,  
And for thy maintenance commits his body  
To painful labour both by sea and land,  
To watch the night in storms, the day in cold,  
Whilst thou liest warm at home, secure and safe;  
And craves no other tribute at thy hands  
But love, fair looks and true obedience;  
Too little payment for so great a debt.  
Such duty as the subject owes the prince  
Even such a woman oweth to her husband;  
And when she is froward, peevish, sullen, sour,  
And not obedient to his honest will,  
What is she but a foul contending rebel  
And graceless traitor to her loving lord?  
I am ashamed that women are so simple  
To offer war where they should kneel for peace;  
Or seek for rule, supremacy and sway,  
When they are bound to serve, love and obey.  
_  
Last week I had dreaded the submissiveness of this final scene, scorned what I considered Katharina's weakness in wanting to please her husband. But now I found myself, also, ashamed of my pettiness and willing to 'kneel for peace.' Despite the emotion I tried to project, Zuko read his part dispassionately, academically correct but with no life, no feeling. When the bell rang he left through the back door to the classroom, avoiding me entirely. I puzzled over his behavior during Statistics and went straight to the library at Break. I sat there for five minutes, waiting for him, but he never came.

I went back into the hallway and saw him standing by his locker. I weaved my way through the crowd of milling students and, as I got closer, realized that he was standing with his sister Azula and someone else. His girlfriend, Mai. How had I conveniently forgotten all weekend that he had a girlfriend? Why had I spun so many fantasies around someone who was completely taken? Why had he spent all that time with me last week instead of her? Is it possible they were going to break up? I kept walking toward them but was unsure what to do. Should I interrupt, speak to him?

He glanced up and saw me coming. I offered him a friendly smile but he didn't respond. Instead he reached an arm around Mai's waist and pulled her thin frame flush against him. He broke his gaze away from me to lean down and kiss her, full on the lips. Not a quick kiss, either. She opened her mouth, he sucked on her bottom lip, I saw their tongues glide together. I sucked in a stunned breath. I felt sick, like someone had just punched me in the gut.

I couldn't look anymore. I turned around and headed back to my locker, the tears swimming in my eyes making it hard to navigate the crowded halls. I opened my locker door and started slamming books around. Why was I so upset? I knew they were dating. He had made no promises to me. And yet…

And yet every smile, every touch, every glance had felt like a promise. Like a promise that was now broken.

Suki came up behind me and grabbed my shoulder. "Hey, Katara, come outside with me. The boys are playing Frisbee."

If she had seen what happened, she didn't let on. But I was grateful for the diversion. I surreptitiously wiped at my eyes and turned around with a painfully bright smile. "Sure, let's go!"

She pulled me outside and over to sit on the front steps. Sokka was messing around with the rest of the football team on the grass, some of them shirtless in the late summer sun. She waved her arm and the team quarterback, Haru, broke away from the rest of the guys to jog over to us. A green bandana was wrapped around his forehead, and jeans hung low on his hips, but his chest was bare and gleaming with sweat. I couldn't help but compare him to Zuko's frame, muscular but lean, whereas Haru had the typical build of a football player with shoulders so bulked up I could hardly see his neck. Still, his smile was genuine as he sat next to us on the steps.

"Haru, remember those cookies I gave you last week? The ones shaped like grape leaves?" Suki asked. He nodded. "Well, they were Katara's very own recipe," she said, pointing to me with a flourish.

His smile widened. "No kidding? I gave them to my Mom, she runs that little tourist shop downtown, you know the one? She said she could sell a hundred of those a week."

I shook off my depression and forced myself to pay attention. "Really? She wants to sell my cookies in her store?"

He nodded. "You bet!" Suki elbowed him and he ran a hand over his face sheepishly. "So, uh, I was thinking. Maybe I could come by your place tonight. You know, we could look over some recipes or something?"

"It's a date!" Suki cried, whacking me on the back. "Isn't that right, Katara?"

I glared at her. "Well, I guess after the dinner rush is over it would be okay. Just for a while."

Mission apparently accomplished, Suki grabbed my arm and stood. "Haru, you can ride with me and Sokka. I always drive him home after football practice. Maybe Katara could save a little dinner for you, too?" She looked at me pointedly.

"Uh, sure. No problem."

"Great, that's just great." Haru stood, towering over us. "I'll see you tonight, Katara." He gave us a little wave and then jogged back to the Frisbee game.

"Nicely done," I said to Suki. "Did it ever occur to you that I don't need or want you to set me up with someone?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Frankly, no. Left to your own devices, you're completely hopeless. So I decided it was time for an intervention. You can thank me now."

"Thanks a lot." She seemed impervious to my sarcasm, however. And as we walked back into school, I acknowledged that maybe this was best. Zuko was clearly otherwise engaged. It would be stupid and pointless of me to waste any time moping over him. Haru was friendly, and helpful, and eager. Like a big, shaggy puppy. So what if I wasn't attracted to him? After the mess with Zuko, I was beginning to think that attraction was highly overrated.

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I twirled around in my Homecoming dress one last time, enjoying the way the silky white material spun around my legs. For the past six weeks, Haru had found an endless string of excuses to hang around me. Whether asking me to help him with his classes (I refused to study with him in the library, although I never told him why), or inventing reasons to stop by and talk to Sokka, or working out the details of the cookies I would sell at his Mom's shop, he became a fixture at our house. A bulky, goofy fixture. But when he asked me to go to Homecoming with him, I accepted quickly, keeping any hesitation hidden safely away. Zuko hadn't spoken to me once in all this time, and I told myself I didn't care. Tonight I would watch the Bearcats win, with my date, the quarterback, leading the team, then we would dance the rest of the night away. I would be in Haru's arms, and I might even get my first kiss. I would be happy. And I wouldn't waste any more time thinking about another pair of arms, another pair of lips, which would never be mine.

I heard a soft knock on my bedroom door and my Dad poked his head in. "Wow," he said as he stepped inside. I smiled and gave him a little curtsy. The white dress with little blue flowers I found at the vintage store fit me perfectly. It had wide shoulder straps but a low cut back so that I had to go braless. I had spent extra time on my hair so that it curled and flowed down my bare back. My strappy little sandals were new and, although I didn't feel particularly steady in the heels, they were sparkly and pretty.

"You look beautiful." Dad gave me a big hug and then pulled back. "I have a surprise for you." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a chunky white and blue necklace.

I gasped when I recognized it. "Mom's necklace!" The white was carved whalebone and the blue was turquoise, strung together on a black leather cord. Although it may not have much monetary value, it was a traditional piece of Dad's Pomo Indian culture.

He nodded. "Tonight, I want to pass it on to you."

"I can't wear that to a school dance! You made it! You gave it to Mom as an engagement present."

"You're old enough to wear it now." He cut off the rest of my protests. "She would want you to have it."

Reluctantly I pulled my hair up and turned around so he could tie the cord around my neck. I looked at myself in the mirror, my fingers reaching up to trace the heavy piece of jewelry. It brought out the blue in my eyes, made me look somehow more mature, like a woman instead of a girl.

There were tears in Dad's eyes as he hugged me again, then there was a knock on the front door and chaos ensued. Suki and Haru were waiting on the driveway, smiling and joking as Sokka and I stepped out. While I had spent hours primping, Sokka was wearing the same uniform he always wore to football games – the costume of the Bearcat mascot. He loved bragging about being part of the football team but conveniently left out the fact that he was just the mascot, and technically was closer to one of Suki's cheerleaders than to an actual football player. But tonight he had his hair pulled back in what he liked to call his 'Warrior's Wolf Knot' with paint striped on his face, and no amount of teasing would dampen his enthusiasm for the big game.

"Bearcats! Bearcats! Go! Fight! Win!" Sokka screamed, taking a flying leap off our front step to slam chests with Haru. Of course Haru stood solidly while Sokka basically bounced off, but he recovered quickly and began running in circles in the driveway making whooping noises.

I looked at Suki. "Remind me, what exactly do you see in him?"

She laughed. "He's really very sweet. When he's not overexcited, that is." Just then Sokka swooped down behind her and grabbed her in his arms, throwing her high in the air. He caught her unevenly and they staggered toward her car, hugging and giggling.

I turned toward Haru to find him chuckling and shaking his head. "Those two are perfect for each other." Then he looked over at me and his eyes widened. "Man, Katara, you look great! A lot prettier than usual!"

Did he just insult me? Nope, I thought, looking at his wide grin. He was clueless. "Thanks, Haru. Good luck in the game tonight. I know you're going to win!" We walked to his car as he began to tell me all about the team's game plan for tonight, and some of the plays he was thinking of using. I forced myself to concentrate, nodding my head at all the right times and ruthlessly squelching any curiosity about whether I might see anyone else at the game.

The school had been completely taken over by the Homecoming festivities, with a parade, carnival, and food booths in addition to the football game and dance. Soon Haru, Sokka, and Suki all had to get ready for the game, and I found myself wandering through the carnival alone. On a whim, I decided to enter a fortuneteller's booth.

"Come in, my dear. Have a seat." An elderly lady sitting on a stuffed pillow on the ground waved a hand toward another pillow next to her. "Let Aunt Wu look at your loveline."

Feeling both foolish and eager, I sat on the pillow and extended my arm.

"Your palms are so smooth!" she exclaimed after taking my hand. "Do you use moisturizer?"

"Actually, I use this special seaweed lotion I buy in town."

"I'll have to get some. Now, on to your fortune. What would you like to know?"

I took a deep breath and then asked the question that had been burning in my mind for weeks. "Will I get my first kiss tonight?"

She peered at my palm and then nodded. "Yes. But not from the one you expect."

"What do you mean? Who?"

"I cannot tell you who. It doesn't work like that."

I sighed and tried to think of another question. "Well, what about the person I'm going to marry? What can you tell me about him?"

The old lady leaned closer, squinting at my palm and mumbling to herself. "He will be very powerful. He will have a strong influence on the world, either for good, or for evil. I can't tell which one. His future is murky. Much is still undecided."

I felt strangely disappointed. This lady must be some kind of quack. I pulled a few dollars out of my purse and gave them to her with my thanks, then left the tent and headed over toward the stadium.

Along the way I ran into Toph and Aang at the carnival Sledge Hammer game. It was Toph's turn, and she swung the mallet with a ferocious groan that sent the weight flying up to ring the bell. She saw me and grinned, jerking her head toward the prizes. "Pick something."

"Oooo, pick the white flying lemur!" Aang said, pointing at a strange stuffed animal that looked like a cross between a bat and a monkey.

"Sure," I laughed, taking the toy from the volunteer and handing it to Aang. He propped it on his shoulder and wrapped the artificial tail around his arm. "Do you guys want to sit with me at the game?"

"Yeah, sure," Toph said.

We picked out seats in the stadium, got drinks and popcorn, cheered the band, and basically reveled in the pre-game entertainment. Suddenly I felt a strange awareness prick my senses, and looked to my left to find a still, black knot among the throng of cheering students. Zuko, Mai, and Azula, all dressed in black, were sitting one section over. They looked completely bored, as if they were performing some sort of mandatory chore instead being at a football game.

I turned away quickly, but a few minutes later Toph whispered in my ear, "Someone's watching you."

I looked up and, sure enough, Zuko was leaning forward, elbows braced on his knees, staring directly at me. I caught my breath as the crowd seemed to blur around him, everything else falling out of focus. My fingers curled around the edge of the bleachers as I met his gaze, and returned it. The audience started roaring as the Bearcats came out onto the field, but still I couldn't look away. Even at this distance, I felt it, that spark that had been missing from Haru. Immediately I was ashamed of my disloyalty. Here I was, ready to watch my boyfriend, or almost-boyfriend, win the big game, and instead of watching Haru I was flirting with Zuko. I bit my lip and forced myself to look at the field, watching the teams get into position for the first play. But over and over again, I caught my gaze sliding involuntarily back to Zuko. And every time, he was still staring at me, as if I was the only thing that interested him in the entire world.

This continued until halftime, when our team was down ten points. Our rivals, the Miners, sent their mascot, a little gold-miner dude waving a pickaxe, out on the field to chase Sokka. Sokka fought back with his trademark Bearcat Boomerang until finally the referees had to come out and break them up. As Suki led the crowd in a cheer, I decided to go down to the locker room and check on Haru. It was about time I started acting like proper girlfriend material.

I could hear the coach – Haru's Dad, Tyro – giving the team a pep talk as I approached the locker room. But it didn't sound very inspiring to me. "It's time to hunker down, guys. Dig in. Don't give up another yard to the Miners. No matter what play they try next, we're going to wait it out, look for a break."

I rounded the corner and saw Haru sitting there with the rest of the team. They were surrounded by metal lockers, gleaming like prison bars, looking pretty hopeless. But then he looked up and saw me, and a grin split his face. "Hey, Katara!" He stood up and came over to take my hand. He was sweaty, and dirty, but I held his hand and tried to think of some way to help. I smiled at him and then looked at the rest of the team behind him.

"You guys may not know me, but I know you. For years I've heard stories about the great victories of the Bearcats. The Miners might be ahead right now, but they can't take away your courage, and it is your courage they should truly fear! It is the strength of your hearts that make you who you are. The time to fight back is now! So remember your courage, Bearcats, and go out there and win!"

By the time I was done, the team had surged to their feet, roaring with agreement. Haru pumped his fist in the air and started high-fiving the rest of the guys. I snuck out and climbed back through the bleachers to rejoin Toph and Aang for the rest of the game. Sure enough, the Bearcats dominated the second half, the final score 41 – 23. And I kept my eyes where they belonged, on Haru, the entire time.

The stadium went wild at our win, people pouring out onto the field. I stayed in my seat, waiting for the crowd to die down, and idly reached up a hand to stroke my neck.

"It's gone!" I gasped.

"What?" Toph asked.

"My mother's necklace! I was wearing it when the game started! But somehow, I must have lost it!"

"We can help you look for it," Aang said.

They started scanning the area, kicking aside popcorn boxes and discarded pompoms and other trash under the bleachers. I began frantically climbing up and down the steps, retracing my path, increasingly upset. We kept searching until it seemed like we were the only ones left in the stadium, and still we didn't find it.

Aang volunteered to go double-check the locker rooms, and finally I sat down on a bench and let the tears come.

A warm arm came around my shoulders. "Hey, don't cry," Toph said, sitting down next to me. She rocked me against her, gave me a tissue (which I suspect was already partially used), and patted my back. "I can buy you a new necklace, if you want."

I tried to smile. "Thanks. But my Dad made this one for my Mom. It's irreplaceable."

Toph reached up and wiped my tears away with her thumb. Her choppy black bangs were pulled back with a little hairband tonight, and I realized I could actually see her face. "Wow, I never knew your eyes were such a bright green."

She smiled, her hand moving from my cheek to tangle in my hair at the back of my neck. She leaned forward, and…kissed me! Right on the lips! My eyes bugged out and I jerked away from her.

"Toph! What are you doing!"

"I would say that's fairly obvious, Sugar Queen. I was kissing you."

"But, why?"

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "For someone so smart – "

"Yeah, I know. I sure am dumb. I just don't understand. If you, uh, like me…why do you tease me all the time?"

"I told you. Some of us aren't good at expressing things. Like Zuko."

"Well, it turns out Zuko doesn't like me at all. He ignored me the last six weeks."

"Like he was 'ignoring' you tonight? You still don't get it. Sometimes it hurts, to see the girl you like together with someone else." She dropped her head, playing with the tear in the knee of her jeans. "It's easier to look away."

I reached out to stroke her back. "I'm sorry, Toph. I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't know."

She nodded. "That's why I decided to finally tell you. I mean, I know you like guys. But I was starting to feel like Cyrano for a while there, only at least he got to write love letters. I was writing insults!"

"We can still be friends, though, can't we?"

"Sure." She stood up and shrugged her shoulders. "See you around, Sweetness." She stomped down the stairs while I sat, feeling dazed, not sure what to do next.

I don't know how much time passed, but neither Haru nor Aang ever came looking for me, so I decided everyone must have gone on to the dance. I gingerly made my way down the trash-strewn steps in my high heels and hobbled over to the gym. The music was blaring and it was packed with bodies slamming together in what passed for dancing. I couldn't see my date anywhere.

My feet pounding, I slipped off my sandals and walked down the hall. The door to the music room was open but it was dark inside. Fairly quiet, too, thanks to the sound insulation in the walls. I could only hear the bass of the music pulsing around me as I strolled over to the windows and looked out onto the darkened soccer field.

"So, you and Toph, huh?"

The familiar husky voice sent shivers down my spine, but I didn't turn around. Not him, too. Not tonight. It was too much. It felt like the whole world had turned upside down. I raised my hand to my eyes, and my shoulders started to shake. "My first kiss!" I wailed. "And it was with another girl!"

"Hey, don't cry," someone said for the second time that night. Zuko slipped his arms around me and turned me so my head was nestled in the curve of his shoulder. His large hand cupped my neck and stroked down the skin of my back, gentle and soothing. His heartbeat was strong and steady, the heat radiating off his body slowly seeping into my own, warming me. I breathed deep and calmed down, relaxing against him gradually, feeling him sway slightly in time to the pulsing music. I slid my bare feet onto his leather shoes, letting him guide my body.

"We're dancing," I whispered, and I heard him laugh lightly against my hair. I ducked my head and asked him the one question that had been burning inside me for weeks. "Why, Zuko?" I couldn't look at him, but I knew he understood.

His arms tightened around me. "I'm so sorry, Katara. My father forbade me to talk to you."

It sounded so archaic. "You could have at least told me, you know."

"It's pointless. We can't be friends."

I wrapped my arms around his waist and pressed my body flush against his. "If we're not friends, then what are we?"

He didn't have an answer. His hands continued to roam, gently kneading away the tension from my shoulders and the small of my back. Strong fingers stroked my bare skin, sending sparks of energy through my body. In the dark, away from prying eyes, his embrace felt like the most natural thing in the world. I never wanted it to end.

"What were you looking for out there?" he eventually asked.

"My mother's necklace. My Dad let me wear it for the first time tonight, and I lost it."

He sighed. "I'm sorry. Will he be very angry?"

I shook my head. "He's not like your Dad. He doesn't get mad like that. But it was one of the few things she left just for me. Now it feels like I've lost another piece of her." I started sniffling again and felt Zuko reach into his pocket. He pulled out a handkerchief, like the kind Rhett was always giving to Scarlet in _Gone with the Wind_, only Zuko's was made of black silk. He dabbed at my eyes and I started to laugh, tears forgotten.

"Who carries a handkerchief around anymore?"

He shrugged and pressed it into my hand. "I guess I'm just an old-fashioned kind of guy." He rubbed my arms briskly and then stepped away. "Are you going to be all right?"

I nodded. "I'll catch a ride home with Suki." He started to walk out of the room, but I had to ask him one last thing. "When you see me in school on Monday, are you going to talk to me?"

He paused in the doorway but didn't turn around. "No." Then he left.

I stood alone in the darkness. My almost-boyfriend had disappeared, leaving me alone on Homecoming night. I'd finally gotten my first kiss, but it was from a girl friend who wanted to be my girlfriend. And I'd danced, and laughed, with a guy who wasn't speaking to me.

Could my life get any more confusing?

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**Author's Note:** *evil laugh* Bet you didn't see that coming! Is there a ship for that? KaTophra? Tophara? Fear not, I will make it up to you with Zutarian hotness in the following chapters.


	12. Chapter 12: Masks

**Title:** The Taming of the Shrew  
**Author:** setlib  
**Rating:** T-rated for language and sexual content  
**Setting:** Alternate Universe – modern high school, no bending  
**Pairings:** Zuko x Katara  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own the rights to any characters from Avatar: The Last Airbender.

**Summary:** Zuko and Katara are seniors in high school. He teases her, then ignores her. She despises him. But when Zuko's father kicks him out of the house and he has to move in with his hippie Uncle Iroh, he begins to see Katara in a new light. But as the bard warned, "the course of true love never did run smooth."

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**The Taming of the Shrew, Chapter 12: Masks**

I turned my back on Katara, leaving her alone in the dark. I wanted to stay, to comfort her, to tease her until she laughed again. But that wasn't my role. Her dim-witted overgrown supposed-boyfriend should be doing that. Where the hell was Haru? How could he leave a girl as beautiful as Katara alone on Homecoming night? She deserved to be courted, complimented, cared for – not abandoned. Of course, I didn't really have any right to criticize. After all, I had abandoned her first.

I passed the stadium and saw a crew of janitors sweeping up. I circled around, giving each man a crisp $100 bill from my wallet to look for Katara's necklace and promising another $100 to whoever found it. In the end, though, I found it myself. It was near the entrance to the locker rooms, lying under a discarded popcorn box. I ran my fingers over the heavy turquoise pendant and the beautifully carved whalebone. It was both elemental and elegant, not unlike Katara herself. I smiled and slipped it into my pocket. Katara would be so happy when I returned it to her, but I'd have to find just the right occasion. Away from prying eyes.

I headed back to the parking lot and noticed that the windows in Azula's red convertible Porsche were fogged up. I couldn't pass up an opportunity to mess with her. I strolled over and rapped sharply on the window, pitching my voice low and harsh. "Campus security. Come out!"

I heard a male voice curse and saw a shadowy figure scramble around inside the car. Suddenly the door swung open and out popped Haru, frantically tucking in his shirt and zipping up his jeans. He looked at me and grinned in relief. "Oh, hey man, it's just you. Look, I –"

I smashed my fist into his jaw, sending him flying back against the car like a rag doll. He cradled his face and scrambled back, one hand outstretched. "Look, man, I didn't do anything she didn't want to do. Your sister was the one—"

"I don't give a damn about Azula," I growled. "Why aren't you with your _date_, you piece of shit?"

He blinked. "Katara? Uh, yeah. I mean, I was going to get her. But it's just that Azula and me, we started talking, and then, well," he trailed off and shrugged. "I'll go find Katara right now."

"The hell you will. You don't deserve her. If I ever see you around her again, you'll regret it. Get out of here."

He looked at me like I was crazy, but he backed away and left without offering any more lame excuses. I leaned down to look in the car and found Azula calmly reapplying her lipstick, not a hair out of place.

"Wow. So much for defending my honor," she said.

I snorted. "Honor, my ass. He's too dumb to even think about hitting on you. What'd you do? Lurk outside the locker room and pounce on him as soon as he came out?"

She climbed out of the car and shut the door, leaning against it with a satisfied smirk. "All I had to do was bat my eyelashes and tell him 'your arms look so strong' and he would have followed me anywhere. Boys are so stupid. Always thinking with the wrong head."

"Maybe. But why him?"

She rolled her eyes as if I was an idiot. "Because he's the quarterback who just won the Homecoming game. He's like a king right now. Together, we'll be the strongest couple in the entire school. We'll dominate the social scene."

"And the fact that he's already dating Katara didn't matter to you at all?"

"What _does_ matter to me is that you're still showing an unhealthy amount of interest in that girl. You shouldn't care if she's dating anyone or not. And speaking of girlfriends, where's Mai right now?"

I winced. I had completely forgotten about Mai. The last time I saw her she was skulking in the corner of the gym near Ty Lee, refusing to dance, refusing to eat or drink anything I brought her, deliberately ignoring me to flirt with other guys.

Azula laughed gleefully. "You hypocrite! Criticizing poor little Haru for ignoring his date when you're doing the same thing." Her smile took on a sharp edge. "Father will be very interested to hear about this when he gets back from his trip."

"You'll be too tired to talk to him by then. The rest of the football team is still waiting for their blow jobs. You'd better get busy."

She opened her mouth to reply but then looked over my shoulder and grinned in anticipation.

"Zuko!" I turned to find Mai stalking toward me, Ty Lee following behind her. "You asshole! Where the hell have you been?"

"He's been chasing after Katara all night," Azula volunteered.

Before I could protest, Mai reached out and slapped me. It didn't hurt, really, but Ty Lee's shocked gasp and Azula's peals of laughter bothered me. "Do you think I'm stupid? I saw you watching her during the whole game. Right in front of me!" Mai screeched. "She's just a hot-headed little tramp. How could you choose her over me?"

"Because at least she feels something!" That popped out of my mouth before I could think about it, but as soon as I said it, I realized it was true. "As opposed to you, you have no passion for anything. You're just a big 'blah'."

Mai's mouth shriveled tight like she had just bit into a lemon. "It's over, Zuko. We're done."

Mai and Ty Lee climbed into Azula's car and the three of them drove away, probably to Mai's house. No doubt they were going to spend the whole night together calling me every name in the book. Azula was right – when Father got home, he was going to be seriously pissed off.

I slid into my Mercedes and leaned my head back against the cool leather seat. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out Katara's necklace and examined it thoughtfully. Maybe I was going to be in trouble. But it was worth it.

_She_ was worth it.

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Two weeks later, Halloween night fell on a Saturday. Father was due back from his extended business trip to China soon, and Azula was at a Halloween party at Mai's to which I, for obvious reasons, had not been invited. I wandered through our huge, empty estate, and couldn't help but wonder what Katara would be doing tonight. She was probably surrounded by family and friends, maybe going to the Halloween festival downtown. At school I had noticed with satisfaction that she stopped hanging out with Haru. She seemed a little sad, though, and kept sending me glances which I continued to ignore.

I paused in the darkened library, looking through the windows at the heavy yellow moon hanging full and low over the vineyards. I reached into my pocket and ran my fingers over the familiar contours of Katara's necklace, which I had carried with me ever since I found it. Why was I continuing to ignore her? I wanted her. She wanted me. I had already broken up with Mai and would accept whatever consequences that would bring. Was I really so afraid to disobey Father that I would continue to deny myself the one thing, the one person, that I really wanted?

Without even making a conscious decision, my feet turned and headed involuntarily toward the garage. I would just go downtown and see if maybe I could find her. I didn't have a plan, really, just a feeling that something was going to happen. That, tonight, things were going to change.

I paused to pluck my car keys off the garage wall and noticed something strange on the worktable. Behind some tools and a baseball bat was a pile of masks, each one an identical blue with bold white features like horns and tusks. I grabbed one and slipped it on. The fabric went from my forehead to my nose, leaving the bottom half of my face exposed. I slid into my car and looked into the rearview mirror. The eyeholes were small, and it was enough to maybe hide my identity, especially in the dark. I started the car and pulled out into the driveway. It wasn't much of a Halloween costume, but coupled with my black clothes, it would have to do.

Downtown was already crowded, and I had to park behind some old brick industrial buildings. I cut through alleys and made my way toward the crowds, scanning eagerly for Katara. Of course, I didn't know what costume she was wearing, so that would make her a little harder to find, but I had all night. It's not like I had anything else to do.

I blended easily into the throng and searched for any groups from our high school, or Katara's friends or brother. I saw Stefan Valiente, the guy who'd made team captain instead of me, and several members of the cross country team moving down the sidewalk in a clump. They were dressed in matching costumes, togas and armor that I guess were supposed to be Greek gods or something. I kept to the shadows but they walked right past without recognizing me, too busy joking and pushing each other to pay attention to anything else.

As I made my way closer to the city square I recognized a group of guys from the football team. They had also coordinated outfits in some kind of ocean theme, dressed like sharks and fishermen. I saw Sokka flapping his arms excitedly on the edge of the crowd, his face and arms covered with what looked like little purple rubber squids. I just did not understand the appeal of group costumes. Did people's IQs drop ten points when Halloween came around each year? But my strategy was successful, because when Sokka ran up to his girlfriend Suki, I spotted another girl standing next to them. Her face was covered so that I might never have recognized her otherwise, but now I could tell by the way she moved that it was definitely Katara.

I had never seen a costume quite like hers. She wore a sleeveless, tight red shirt. A heavy brown cape covered her neck and wrapped around in front, held by a large white clasp across her chest, with ropes dangling down. A wide-brimmed straw hat covered her head, attached to a gauzy white veil that split apart to reveal her face and then hung down past her waist. Her long brown hair curled around her throat. Most intriguing of all, dramatic red lines were painted across her bare shoulders, arms and face. Were they stripes? Was she supposed to be an animal, or a person, or some kind of spirit? I couldn't tell, but at least with her unique costume, she was easy to track in the crowd. I settled myself into the shadowy door of a closed business across the street and watched her, waiting for an opportunity to get her alone.

Eventually she headed toward the line of port-a-potties set up behind the city square and I followed her, feeling slightly creepy. Personally I would rather piss in a dark corner of the parking lot than use those things, but I guess that wasn't really an option for girls. After she finished, she headed back toward the crowd, cutting through a deserted garden. Suddenly a group of adults staggered through the same area, all dressed in some variety of pirate outfit. Really, what was it with the coordinated costumes?

Katara shrank back against a bush as some of the piratical revelers staggered toward her, clearly either drunk or stoned. One of them reached out an arm and snagged her. "No! Let go of me!" she cried, twisting out of his grasp and running down the steps. They laughed and began to follow her – until she ran into me.

"I'll save you from the pirates," I growled, grabbing her arms and then bracing her back against a tree, folding her protectively into the curve of my body. I looked at the leader, daring him to challenge me. But he and the others turned away, heading out of the garden, not wanting any trouble.

Katara met my gaze, her eyes wide. "Who are you?"

It was then that I remembered I was wearing a mask. I was just some stranger to her, probably every bit as frightening as the ones who just grabbed her. "Don't worry, you're safe with me."

She reached up with trembling fingers to trace the fabric of my mask. "Do I know you?"

How should I respond? Should I tell her I'm the same guy who's been ignoring her the past two months? She might not want anything to do with me. But there was something about wearing a mask that gave me a strange sense of liberation. Freed from all the mistakes I had made in the past, I could start over. Do things right this time. "Just call me the Blue Spirit," I said. "Who are you?"

She smiled. "I'm the Painted Lady. The Pomo Indians believed she was a water spirit who healed the sick."

I nodded. It was a good costume for her. "I have something for you, Painted Lady. I want to return something you lost." I reached into my pocket and pulled out her necklace, framing it against her throat.

"My mother's necklace! How did you get that?"

"I didn't steal it, if that's what you're wondering. I found it. I've just been waiting for the right time to return it to you." My fingers skirted across her bare throat, drawing the leather cord up to her shoulders.

She pulled her hair back so that I could tie the necklace for her. I swallowed nervously, my fingers fumbling with the heavy cord. She looked amazing in that costume, with her arms up, watching me. Did she really not know who I was?

Once I tied the cord, I dropped my hands to my sides reluctantly. I didn't want to leave, but I wasn't sure what else to say. She solved my dilemma by reaching out and grabbing my shirt in her fists.

"I think you deserve a reward, Blue Spirit" she whispered. "Will this do?"

Before I realized what she had planned, she rose up on her toes and pressed her lips to mine. Instinctively, I tilted my head and leaned down, increasing the pressure. She made a tiny sound in the back of her throat, and I realized that this was her first kiss. Her first_ real_ kiss. Suddenly I wanted to make it right, make it perfect for her. I braced my hands against the tree behind her back. I felt the urge to push against her body, pin her hips with mine and grind myself into her, but instead I just dug my fingers into the rough tree bark, the pain clearing my head. I had to make this good for her. She deserved it.

I kept the kiss gentle. I didn't force her mouth open, or shove my tongue down her throat. I was content to explore the graceful curve of her lips, to nibble, to suck, to run my teeth softly against her sensitive skin. I vowed to take my time and teach her how to wring every drop of pleasure out of the simple act of kissing. That is, until she moaned and slid her tongue out to trace my lips in return. My fingers tightened into the tree bark until my skin split, and it took all my strength to hold myself still while she tentatively kissed me back. To remain stationary as her hands reached up to stroke the tense lines of my arms, to slide across my chest while my heart pounded erratically. Then she leaned forward, pressing her breasts against me, and I felt my control begin to fracture. I pulled back, gasping for breath, my hands gripping her shoulders to hold her away from me. My blood mixed with her paint in red lines that chased each other down her arms.

"Don't go!" she cried, trying to grab my hands, but I slipped from her grasp and ran into the night. I fled from her allure, from my desire, from all the things keeping us apart and pulling us together. I circled behind the buildings, making my way back to my car. I was almost there when I heard a soft thud, a sickening crunch, and an agonized scream. A figure darted toward me in the dark alley, tall and broad shouldered, dressed all in black with a baseball bat clutched in one fist. And on his face, a blue and white mask identical to my own.

"Call 9-1-1!" a voice shouted from the street as a crowd began to gather.

"Come on!" the man grunted as he passed me, and I immediately recognized the voice. He threw the bat toward me and I caught it reflexively, even though it was warm and slippery. I turned to run after him to the parking lot, my mind spinning.

What the hell was going on?


	13. Chapter 13: Rising Action

**Title:** The Taming of the Shrew  
**Author:** setlib  
**Rating:** T-rated for language and sexual content  
**Setting:** Alternate Universe – modern high school, no bending  
**Pairings:** Zuko x Katara  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own the rights to any characters from Avatar: The Last Airbender.

**Summary:** Zuko and Katara are seniors in high school. He teases her, then ignores her. She despises him. But when Zuko's father kicks him out of the house and he has to move in with his hippie Uncle Iroh, he begins to see Katara in a new light. But as the bard warned, "the course of true love never did run smooth."

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**The Taming of the Shrew, Chapter 13: Rising Action**

I wandered slowly back toward the crowd, my fingers idly tracing my swollen lips. Did Zuko actually think I didn't know it was him? I was familiar with every line of his body, with the sexy rasp of his voice, with his wide mouth and cinnamon breath. No little mask could hide his identity from me. Besides, he should know I would never let a stranger kiss me. It was fun to fantasize for a little while, to pretend I was someone else, someone confidant and sophisticated. To pretend that he was a stranger, strong and slightly dangerous. To take the initiative, take the kiss I had wanted for so long.

And what a kiss it was…tender and hot, fierce and gentle, wet and burning all at once. I wanted more. More kisses, more touches, more Zuko. I heard he broke up with Mai on the same night Haru left me. We were both single now, and I was tired of sitting around and waiting for him to come to me. The next time I saw him, I was going to let him know what I wanted. Him.

I got back to Suki and Sokka just as a murmur began to rise from the crowd. People were clustering across the street from us, and as we moved closer I could hear the ragged groans of someone in great pain. Police officers arrived and pushed the crowd back, clearing a path for an ambulance.

"What happened?" Suki asked, peering over my shoulder.

Sokka reached out and grabbed someone in a Greek toga who was trying to push his way through the crowd. "Hey, man, do you know what's going on?"

"Some guy just ran right up to Stefan and hit him in the leg with a baseball bat. I think maybe his knee is broken."

"Isn't he the captain of the cross country team?" Suki asked.

"Dude, that's messed up!" Sokka exclaimed. "Who was it?"

"Man, I don't know. It was so quick, he'd already taken off before we knew what happened. He had this crazy blue mask on, with these white, like, horn things."

Greek Guy continued pushing through the crowd and Sokka turned back toward us. He began to talk to Suki but I didn't hear anything he said. My mind kept replaying the description of the assailant…a blue and white mask…that sounded just like the one Zuko was wearing.

Zuko, who protected me from a rowdy group of men. Zuko, who found and returned my mother's necklace. Zuko, who just gave me a toe-tingling, head-spinning kiss. Was I supposed to believe that, right after kissing me, he picked up a baseball bat and broke someone's knee? "This makes no sense!" I shouted.

I looked at the police cars, lights flashing, and debated what to do. Should I tell the police that I knew who wore the blue mask? Even if it wasn't Zuko, perhaps he knew who did it? No, it seemed too farfetched, too outlandish to imagine him involved in some sort of conspiracy. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I misheard the description of the criminal. I watched the EMTs load Stefan onto the stretcher and lift him, moaning, into the ambulance, I tried to imagine what motive someone would have for such a random act. Already people were attributing it to drunken teenagers, or cruel Halloween pranks, or even the full moon. I didn't believe any of it. I felt certain there was a reason – I just didn't know what it was.

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**Author's Note:** I'm sorry this is so short, but the next chapter will be much longer. While you wait, if you would like to entertain yourself with a clue, reread chapter 4. Look for the reference to Gary Chin about 2/3 down. There is a link to the current crime. Can you guess what it is?


	14. Chapter 14: Reversal

**Title:** The Taming of the Shrew  
**Author:** setlib  
**Rating:** T-rated for language and sexual content  
**Setting:** Alternate Universe – modern high school, no bending  
**Pairings:** Zuko x Katara  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own the rights to any characters from Avatar: The Last Airbender.

**Summary:** Zuko and Katara are seniors in high school. He teases her, then ignores her. She despises him. But when Zuko's father kicks him out of the house and he has to move in with his hippie Uncle Iroh, he begins to see Katara in a new light. But as the bard warned, "the course of true love never did run smooth."

o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o

**The Taming of the Shrew, Chapter 14: Reversal**

"What the hell?" I shouted as I followed Zhao to his black Ford Ram pickup.

"Get in," he growled, opening the door and grabbing my shoulder, trying to push me inside.

I shook off his hand. "Don't fucking touch me! What did you just do?"

He pulled off his mask and ripped the matching one off my face. "We can't talk here. We have to get out of sight. Hurry up!"

He stalked around to the driver's side and I climbed into the truck, determined to get answers. I threw the baseball bat to the floor and looked at my hand in the dull glow of the moon. My palm was wet, smeared with something that gleamed black in the low light. I had cut my fingertips when I dug them into the bark of the tree behind Katara, but that didn't explain this amount of blood.

Zhao started the truck and pulled slowly, unobtrusively, out of the parking lot. Police cars passed us as he pulled onto the highway, but he didn't even flinch.

"You have to tell me what you've done. Right now," I said.

"You mean, what _we've_ done," he grunted. "You wore the same mask. Your blood is on the bat. No one would believe you weren't involved."

"Involved in _what_?"

He laughed. "In eliminating your rival, obviously. The boy who got to be team captain instead of you."

"Stefan? You mean you hit Stefan with that thing?" I didn't think about what I was doing. I just leaned over and punched Zhao in the jaw, slamming him against the door. The wheel jerked with him, sending us careening into the gravel on the side of the highway.

"God damn it!" Zhao cried, frantically trying to straighten the truck. "You're a fucking idiot, kid, you know that? Here I am trying to help you –"

"Help me?"

"—and that's the thanks I get?"

"You're crazy. You're completely out of your mind."

"It's all your fault anyway." The truck was under control now, but Zhao still radiated a manic tension. "You were supposed to be team captain after the other boy dropped out."

"You mean Gary Chin? What does he have to do with anything? Besides, he didn't drop out, he just couldn't compete after his legs were broken. He was hit by a car this summer while he was out running."

"Yeah. And once he was out of the picture, you were supposed to be captain. But you fucked it up, so now I had to take more drastic measures."

"Out of the picture? What do you mean?" A chill ran down my spine. "Did you have something to do with his accident?"

"I wouldn't exactly call it an 'accident.' More like an adjustment," he said, laughing.

I clenched my fists to keep from punching him again. "You're going to go to jail for this. When my Father finds out—"

His laughter doubled and he looked at me, his teeth gleaming white in the moonlight. "Kid, you still don't get it, do you? You Father was the one who planned the whole thing. Who do you think gave me the order to go after that boy tonight?"

I shook my head, fighting off the sick twisting in my stomach. It wasn't possible. Zhao was bluffing. Father wouldn't do something like that. He may be an asshole, but he wasn't a monster. He couldn't be. He was my father.

I sat in stony silence for the rest of the ride. As he pulled into the driveway of our estate, Zhao honked the horn. By the time he parked in the garage, Father was walking through the door from the house. I picked up the bat and stalked over to him, waving it in my hand.

"You've got to reign in your dog!" I shouted. "Zhao just assaulted someone downtown. We have to call the police."

Father reached out and took the bat from my hands. "Calm down. Zhao, what happened?"

"The Little Prince here took one of my masks and was parading around downtown in it. I didn't see him until after I finished the job. I don't know if anyone will be able to identify him."

Father shook his head. "Another screw up. Zuko, did you talk to anyone? Anyone who might have recognized you?"

"Just Katara," I said defensively.

He looked at me, his eyes taking on a hard glint. "Then you better keep your little bitch on a tight leash. If she even thinks about talking to the police, the next accident will be hers."

Suddenly I felt breathless, like he had just punched me in the gut. "Are you saying you did this on purpose? You ordered Zhao to do these things?"

He raised one eyebrow. "You know that our family never settles for second place. You know what I wanted from you. And yet, you still can't manage to meet even my most basic expectations. All I asked you to do was make team captain your senior year, and win Regionals. I even helped you, clearing away the competition. Now there's only one more obstacle to remove."

"Obstacle?"

"The little shit who keeps beating you. What's his name? Ohng?"

"Aang," I corrected him automatically.

He nodded. "Now it's your turn. It's time for you to take a little responsibility for your future. Make sure he stops winning. Do whatever is necessary."

I shook my head and backed away. "You're sick. You can't do this. Hurt people, all for a stupid sport? What, so I can pad my college application?"

"I'm going to be governor in two years. You and Azula will both do exactly what I tell you to do. You'll attend the school I choose for you. You'll smile when I say smile. I won't tolerate any disobedience from you, Zuko."

"I'm calling the police. You'll never be governor now. You don't deserve to be! How can you just sacrifice innocent people like Stefan for your own ambition? Where is the honor in that?"

Father looked down and twisted the bat in his hands. I realized he was wearing black leather gloves, and had been the whole time. I stepped back again and bumped into Zhao, looming behind me. When Father spoke, his voice lashed sharp as a whip. "Your blood's on this bat, Zuko. You were wearing the mask. If you call the police, you're the one who will be arrested. I can't allow that. Any police investigation would doom my political career."

Father moved toward me and Zhao grabbed my arms, pinning me with his meaty fists. I didn't struggle, though. I couldn't believe this was happening. Everything began to move in slow motion.

"It's time you learned the price for disobedience. You need to appreciate everything I've done for you, all the privileges you've taken for granted. After tonight, you're banished from my house. Your car, your phone, your computer, everything stays here. You'll leave with nothing but the clothes on your back. And some pain, to make sure you remember this lesson."

He slammed the bat into my ribs and all the breath rushed out of my body in a ragged gasp. Zhao released my arms and I slid down to my knees. I braced one hand on the cold garage floor and looked up at my father.

"You will learn respect," he said. "And suffering will be your teacher." He swung the bat high and slammed it down into my face. My left cheek felt like it had exploded, like it was burning, and I screamed with the pain of it.

Zhao dragged me out of the garage and threw me onto the gravel driveway. I lay on the ground, writhing blindly, and heard his voice over me. "You heard your father. You're nothing but an embarrassment to him. He doesn't want to look at you again. Get off this property, or I'll throw you off." I heard the garage door close and fought to gain control of myself, to think through the overwhelming pain.

I staggered to my feet and began walking crookedly down the driveway, one hand pressed to my left cheek. My eye was rapidly swelling shut and I could feel blood streaming down my face. The wound throbbed with each beat of my heart, each jarring footstep I took in the dark. Finally I made it to the highway and, without any clear plan, turned toward town.

After stumbling nearly a mile along the side of the road, an old diesel-burning car pulled over next to me. "Nephew! Get in!" I hadn't seen him in years, but I still recognized the gritty voice of my Uncle Iroh. I didn't want to go with him, but I didn't have any other reasonable choice. I opened the door and gingerly climbed inside.

"Zhao called me. Said you'd been in some kind of car accident. What the hell happened to your face?"

I didn't answer. I turned away from him, leaning back against the seat of the car and looking out the window into the night sky, my hand still pressed to my cheek.

"That's okay. You don't have to talk. Let's get you stitched up, though. But don't worry: 'In time of sickness the soul collects itself anew.' Just remember that."

I tuned out the old man's babbling and fought to stay awake. I was tired, bone tired, but every time I closed my eyes, I saw the flash of the bat swinging toward my face, felt again the savage blast of pain. Then I imagined Katara, huddled back against a wall while Zhao descended on her, bat in hand. My Father had me trapped. I couldn't say anything about what he'd done. At best, he'd deny it, and pin the crime on me. At worst, he'd send Zhao to shut me up, and Katara too. All these years I'd lived with him, I'd never imagined he was capable of this kind of ruthlessness. I was helpless.

And, damn him, he knew it.


	15. Chapter 15: Intermission

**Title:** The Taming of the Shrew  
**Author:** setlib  
**Rating:** T-rated for language and sexual content  
**Setting:** Alternate Universe – modern high school, no bending  
**Pairings:** Zuko x Katara  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own the rights to any characters from Avatar: The Last Airbender.

**Summary:** Zuko and Katara are seniors in high school. He teases her, then ignores her. She despises him. But when Zuko's father kicks him out of the house and he has to move in with his hippie Uncle Iroh, he begins to see Katara in a new light. But as the bard warned, "the course of true love never did run smooth."

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**The Taming of the Shrew, Chapter 15: Intermission**

Zuko wasn't in school on Monday. I barely heard a word Mrs. Jennings said in English because I couldn't stop wondering why he didn't show up. I guessed he was probably sick, but there wasn't really anyone I felt comfortable asking. The whole school was buzzing with talk of the attack on Stefan, and no one seemed concerned about Zuko at all. When he was a no-show on Tuesday, too, I began to get concerned. I sent a message to his school email account after I got home that afternoon. No answer.

After dinner I knocked on Sokka bedroom door and asked if he'd heard anything about Zuko. I could hear him snort through the door. "Some of the guys on the football team were talking about him. Haru said he'd moved to China."

"That's ridiculous. That can't possibly be true."

"Don't know. Don't care." Sokka turned his music up, effectively ending our conversation, and I stalked back to my room to toss and turn in bed all night.

On Wednesday morning, when he still didn't come to English class, I couldn't stand it anymore. At Break I walked right up to his horrible sister, who was hanging out with his equally monstrous ex-girlfriend at the picnic benches behind the school. They were talking about their plans for Winter Break and completely ignored my existence as I shifted uncomfortably in front of them.

"Hawaii's getting too crowded to surf. I'd rather go to Australia," Azula said.

"Who cares about surfing?" Mai complained. "There's no night life in those little beach towns."

"Melbourne's good for clubbing—"

"Hey!" I said, then felt like an idiot when they both turned to give me withering glares. I stumbled ahead. "I was just, uh, wondering if you knew, um, where Zuko is? I mean, is he sick? 'Cause he hasn't—"

"Maybe he got tired of you following him around like a bitch in heat." Mai's voice was calm, but she shot me a look full of such pure hatred that I thought, if she had a knife on her right now, she'd probably throw it at me.

Azula was smiling, but in a sadistic way that was even more disturbing than Mai's open animosity. "I'm surprised you don't know already. After all, it's your fault he's not here."

"What do you mean?"

"Father warned Zuko not to waste his time with girls like you." Azula waved her hand dismissively in my general direction.

"Excuse me?"

"You know, townies. Girls who will be stuck in this dead-end town their whole lives. The kind who try to get knocked up so they can drop out of high school and get on welfare."

My fists clenched, my vision went red, but before I could protest, she delivered the fatal blow.

"Zuko disgraced our entire family by hanging around with the likes of you. So Father kicked him out of the house. He's banished now. I don't even know where he is. And I don't care." Azula rose smoothly and turned back toward the school.

Mai followed her, but turned back to look at me scornfully. "You screwed up his entire life. Are you proud of yourself?" Then they slipped back into the building, leaving me standing stunned outside.

Surely they were just trying to mess with me. I knew Azula was vicious, and Mai was jealous, and they wouldn't hesitate to lie to me just for the pure sport of screwing with my head. But whether or not they were lying, I still didn't know where Zuko was. And I suspected that at least part of what they said had some truth to it. Zuko's family probably did regard me as some kind of lower life form, not even worthy to wipe their patent leather boots on. I used to think Zuko was the same way, and only now did I realize what a remarkable accomplishment it was for him to have any good qualities at all after living with people like that.

That night I worked up my courage to call his house. I didn't have his cell phone number, but the house number was listed in the directory. After making myself nearly sick with dread, the actual phone call was frustratingly anti-climactic. I reached a maid or cook or something who spoke even less English than I spoke Spanish, and all I could understand at the end of it was "Zuko no here." When I asked to speak to someone else, she hung up on me. What the hell was going on?

Thursday morning when he didn't show up, I couldn't stop myself. I raised my hand and asked Mrs. Jennings why he hadn't been in class all week.

She put on her reading glasses and peered at the attendance list. "I'm not sure, Katara, but it says right here: 'Absence Excused.' So maybe he's sick?"

Aang leaned over and whispered in my ear. "Coach Rodriguez told us he was in some kind of car accident last weekend."

My head whipped around, my voice spiked. "Car accident! Why didn't you tell me right away!"

Aang shrugged. "I don't know any details. Besides, it's not like he needs you to do anything. I'm sure his family's taking care of him."

Mrs. Jennings shushed us and I sat stock-still, my mind spinning. All this week, he'd been hurt, and I hadn't known about it. Where was he? Why did his sister lie?

When I got home that night I resolved to drive out to his house after dinner and find out for myself if he was okay. As I was washing a large bowl of spring greens for salad, I heard a rumble outside and looked out the window to see Jun pulling up on the black motorcycle she had nicknamed 'Nyla.' We hadn't had any spa customers during the weekdays, and I had forgotten until this moment that she was, technically, Zuko's aunt and therefore might know something. I threw the colander into the sink and ran outside, coming up to her just as she was stowing her helmet.

"Do you know where Zuko is?" I burst out, too anxious to bother with formalities.

She hesitated, her face slipping into that cautious blank expression adults get when they think they're protecting you from bad news. "Tell me!" I shouted. "Is he okay?"

She reached out and hugged me. "He's going to be okay."

"Where is he?"

"He's staying with me and Iroh at our place."

I pulled back to look her in the face. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"He didn't want us to talk about it. He doesn't want to see anyone right now."

I frowned. Did that include me? "What happened to him? I heard he was in a car accident?"

Jun didn't meet my gaze. She started walking toward the spa entrance. "We had to take him to the clinic to get some stitches. He's healing up right now."

I followed her. "When did this happen?"

"Saturday night."

Halloween night. The night he returned my necklace. The night he kissed me for the first time. The same night someone attacked Stefan. "Why didn't you tell me right away?"

"Look, Katara, he didn't want us to talk to anyone about it. We're trying to respect his privacy."

"Well, I'm coming over. Tonight. I want to see him."

She held her hands out. "Let me ask him. Please, I'll call and make sure it's okay. You need to finish prepping dinner, right? I'll catch up with you in a little while."

I agreed reluctantly and finished throwing the field salad together. I had just started slicing potatoes when Jun came into the kitchen. I knew I wasn't going to like her answer when I saw the hesitation in her face. "I'm coming over tonight," I insisted.

She shook her head. "He's resting. The pain medication makes him drowsy—"

"_Pain medication_?"

"—and tonight's not good. He just got his stitches out this afternoon. Look, I'll tell him how worried you are. I'll call you when it's a good time to come visit." She shrugged. "That's the best I can do."

I didn't like it. I thought I would feel better once I had some answers. But the answers I'd received only created more questions. How badly was he hurt? What happened? Why wouldn't he see me? I couldn't help remembering Azula's biting comments that this was my fault. That I wasn't good enough for him. Is that why he hadn't called me?

But I just nodded and asked Jun to let me know as soon as I could visit. However Friday at school I devised a plan to make sure I would have an ironclad excuse to drop by. I went up to all his teachers and told them I would be bringing him his assignments and homework. At first I was afraid they'd know I was bluffing, that maybe they'd been sending things home with his sister all week. But they were happy to give me everything, and when I got home that night to find no emails or phone calls, I was even more determined to use this excuse to see him.

Saturday morning I finished my shopping at the Farmer's Market in record time and didn't even bother to bake anything for the restaurant. I told Dad and Gran that I was going to be spending the day studying with a sick classmate and they were fine with it. I spent extra time on my appearance, trying to find a casual I'm-just-here-to-study-and-I'm-really-not-trying-hard-to-look-good-or-anything outfit, and eventually decided on my old comfy blue jeans and a white, embroidered peasant blouse. I purposely did NOT call Jun because I didn't want to risk being told not to come. Piling my backpack and all of Zuko's homework next to me in the cab, I fired up our old white truck and headed out for The Jasmine Dragon.

Iroh's tea shop was in a dilapidated old house near the edge of the tourist district. Despite its age, it managed to look charming instead of shabby. He had coaxed vines to grow along the sagging gutters and rotting fence posts that surrounded the front patio. Some vines even grew inside, propped up carefully along the faded crown molding in the old living/dining rooms that had been converted into the main seating area. The menu of teas and baked goods was written on a chalkboard up front by the kitchen. The furniture included a lot of "repurposed" tables made from items like barrels, paint buckets, even a huge spool that was waist-high and had probably once held some kind of industrial cable. All the cups were handmade by Iroh himself, the teas were his own special blend, and the collection of bric-a-brac and statues covering every inch of space revealed his wide range of interests. I loved the relaxed and friendly vibe of his shop, but I couldn't imagine anyone else in town that seemed _less_ likely to be related to Zuko than Iroh.

I parked outside, picked up my bags, and went through the front door, the bell jangling cheerfully to announce my presence. The breakfast rush was over but the lunch rush hadn't started yet, and I caught Iroh wiping down some tables in the front room.

His face burst into a happy smile and he stretched his arms out wide. "Katara! How are you? How's Hakoda?" He pulled me into a bear hug and I laughed. We first met a few years ago when Dad was struggling with renovations to the inn, and Iroh had answered an endless stream of questions about the local restaurant business for us.

I leaned back to smile at him. "We're fine, Uncle Iroh."

"I hear you're willing to sell some of your delicious cookies in town. Haru's mom keeps telling me she's got an exclusive."

I scowled. "She's wrong. That deal fell through."

He raised an eyebrow. "In that case, maybe you and I could work something out? I don't have a big enough kitchen to bake what I need. I could sell a lot of scones, or muffins—"

I shook my head. "As much as I want to talk business with you, that's not why I'm here. I came to see Zuko."

"Ahhhh, I see." He scratched his beard, nodding his head. "Well, my nephew is upstairs, but he's not really—"

I took off toward the stairs, climbing them two at a time while Iroh trailed behind me. "He doesn't want visitors quite yet!" Iroh cried, but I ignored him.

At the top of the stairs were several closed doors, probably to bedrooms and bathrooms. I took a chance and opened the oldest-looking one, with an antique doorknob that was at shoulder level. The door wrenched open to reveal another narrow staircase, and I bolted up into an attic room. The ceiling was slanted, so I had to duck my head slightly to move around the side of the staircase. I turned to look through the room, and behind storage boxes and crates I saw a cot near the window with a figure lying still under a dark quilt.

"Zuko?" I whispered, dropping my backpack gently and approaching the small bed wedged into the corner. He was lying on his right side, back toward the wall, and as I approached his head he didn't move. If he really was on some kind of pain medication, then he might be sound asleep. I crept close enough to sit on the edge of the bed and nudge back the quilt. I saw his face, finally, and couldn't hold back a gasp.

A jagged cut split the left side of his face. It dissected his eyebrow, then wove crookedly across his cheekbone, stopping near his nose. Jun said he got his stitches out yesterday, and I could see a line of new pink flesh holding the sides together, but it still looked as though it could split apart again at any moment. The skin all around the cut was the color of a muddy rainbow, from dark yellow to brownish purple, his eye still swollen shut. No wonder he hadn't been to school. But couldn't he have at least called or emailed me? Was he too proud to admit he needed help?

I considered leaving and letting him sleep. Or going back downstairs to hang out until he woke up. But after wanting to see him so desperately all week, now that I finally found him, I wasn't willing to leave yet. I gingerly eased my weight onto the cot, stretching out and worming my way under the quilt to lie next to him. I rested my head on the pillow and looked up at his face. There were dark circles under his eyes, and thick stubble shadowed his jaw. He looked strained, uncomfortable, exhausted, even in his sleep. What the hell had happened to him?

My own sleepless nights caught up with me. Although it was only midmorning, I relaxed against the warmth of his body, which seemed to radiate heat like a furnace under the quilt. Soon my eyes closed and I promised myself I would only take a short nap. I brought my hands up to rest against his chest, and let the steady beat of his heart lull me to sleep. I would get my answers soon enough.


	16. Chapter 16: Recognition

**Title:** The Taming of the Shrew  
**Author:** setlib  
**Rating:** T-rated for language and sexual content  
**Setting:** Alternate Universe – modern high school, no bending  
**Pairings:** Zuko x Katara  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own the rights to any characters from Avatar: The Last Airbender.

**Summary:** Zuko and Katara are seniors in high school. He teases her, then ignores her. She despises him. But when Zuko's father kicks him out of the house and he has to move in with his hippie Uncle Iroh, he begins to see Katara in a new light. But as the bard warned, "the course of true love never did run smooth."

**Author's Note:** I know many of you were expecting Angry Zuko here, but I feel like I've put him through enough trauma for right now. I think he has earned some romantic fluff instead. Enjoy!

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**The Taming of the Shrew, Chapter 16: Recognition**

I never knew there were so many kinds of pain. Throbbing pain. Burning pain. Stabbing pain. And the fact that I could feel all of them at once was particularly cruel. The cut felt like a line of fire across my face, and the urge to rub, to itch, to tear the inflamed flesh away made my fingers twitch. Beneath that, my fractured cheekbone pulsed every time I spoke, or swallowed, or even breathed. As the pain medicine wore off and I surfaced back into consciousness, I braced myself for the sudden rush of memory, the horror that my own father had done this to me, the despair that I had been cast permanently out of the only life I had ever known.

It didn't come. This time, I felt calm. For the first time in a week, I didn't feel like my entire world had come to an end. Even the pain seemed somewhat bearable. What had changed?

The answer came when I opened my eyes to find a mass of curly brown hair under my chin. I inhaled Katara's sweet and sour lemon scent and realized that she was wrapped around me like a second skin. Her arm curved around my waist, her leg nestled between my own, her steady breath tickled against my neck. How could I have slept through her slipping into my bed, especially when I had imagined it so many times? I cursed the pills, and my own weakness in longing for the oblivion they provided. No more.

I ran my hand down her shoulder, to the small of her back, and up again, repeating the movement over and over. I had intended to wake her, but I found touching her was so soothing, like petting a cat, that I continued softly while she slept on. I hadn't been avoiding her this week, at least not her specifically. I guess I'd been avoiding everyone. I didn't want to answer questions, or see pitying glances, or hear whispers behind my back. When I thought of my father, twin flames of anger and shame burned through me. I didn't know how to deal with my frustrations, or my new place in the world.

I guess a part of me had been afraid that Katara would reject me, just like everyone else in my life had. She might be disgusted by my behavior, or horrified by my injury, or appalled by my new poverty. I didn't even have any _clothes_, damn it! Iroh had dug some things out of his teashop's lost and found box that reeked of weed. Jun had picked up some necessities at the pharmacy – and who in the hell bought underwear at the pharmacy? I wouldn't be caught dead in tighty whities. They were coarse and binding. I was going to have to go commando until I could find some more of the black silk boxers I preferred. But clothes weren't the worst of it. No computer meant no email. I couldn't believe it when Iroh told me he didn't have cable or internet access. Some dribble about staying "off the grid" as much as possible. Ridiculous. It was like living in the dark ages.

I realized I had tensed up, my hand fisted in the back of Katara's shirt, the movement finally waking her. She yawned, again reminding me of a little cat, then blinked herself awake. I could tell the moment she recognized where she was. Her eyes widened and went straight to my scar. I began to pull back, not wanting to hear any pitying remarks.

She raised herself up on her left elbow so that she was looking down on me. "So I guess this means we finally slept together?" Her voice was husky, her tone playful, and I relaxed. Maybe she understood that I didn't want to be interrogated right now. That I was tired of my life revolving around my damned scar, as it had the past week. Her leg was still between my knees, and she shifted her weight so that she was practically lying on top of me, her breasts pressed against my chest. She leaned forward and slowly kissed me, her lips lingering on top of mine, so lightly and carefully that I felt no pain. Her mouth slid along my top lip, then down to my bottom, her tongue peeking out occasionally, her body moving distractingly against mine as she braced herself above me on her arms. This was a hell of a lot better than talking. While she continued to scatter teasing kisses across my mouth, I wrapped my hands around her waist and then slid them down, cupping her gorgeous round ass, squeezing in a slow rhythm that she began to match with the slightest tilt of her hips.

She pulled her head back slightly to smile at me. "I guess this means you're feeling all right after all, huh?"

I raised my undamaged eyebrow. "I was feeling pretty crappy, actually, until you got here. Have you ever considered the medical profession? You seem to have quite a bedside manner."

She shifted her weight again, thankfully not to pull away, just to lay her head back on my pillow close to me. "I can't exactly go around kissing all my patients. But I'll make a special exception for you." I leaned down and, very lightly, kissed her again. And again. Never increasing the pressure, never quickening the pace, although I certainly considered it. For the first time, the ache in my face had competition from an ache somewhere else. But whenever my blood began to race too fast, my cheek started throbbing again and the renewed pain took the edge off my arousal. So instead I just relaxed and let myself enjoy the taste of her mouth, the way all her curves seemed to fold just right against the hard planes of my body. I wrapped my arm around her waist, holding her flush against me, stroking her back slowly, not rushing, not wanting this moment to end.

A considerable time later, I heard footsteps on the stairs. Katara must have heard them at the same time because, with a sudden squeal, she tried to sit up and ending up falling off the cot to land on the floor with a loud thud. Jun's head popped up over the stairs, her eyes wide in alarm at the noise. She had good reason to fear the worst. I had been in a royally bad mood all week, cursing, sulking, even throwing plates of food across the room like a spoiled child. And now here I was, behaving myself, with a crooked attempt at a smile playing around my lips. Katara had made quite a difference in my mood. I wondered if I could get her to kiss me awake every morning.

"I was just getting lunch ready," Jun said, coming all the way into the attic. "Zuko, can I bring you up a tray of soup with your pill?"

"No pill," I said. "And no tray. I'll come downstairs."

Jun tried to nod casually, but I could tell she was surprised. "Are you hungry, too, Katara?"

Katara rose awkwardly and laughed. "Absolutely! In fact, I'd like to cook something, if you don't mind me using your kitchen."

"Please! Be my guest! Zuko, you ready?"

I stretched my arms up, banging them against the slanted ceiling over the cot, then running my hands over my short, spiky hair. "I think I'll take a shower first. And shave."

"Great!" Jun said, with a little too much enthusiasm. I surreptitiously sniffed myself while Katara walked toward the stairs. Ugh. How many days had it been since I had last showered? And she had voluntarily climbed into bed with me? She deserved some sort of combat pay for that.

"I'll put some fresh clothes out in the bathroom," Jun called as she followed Katara down the steps.

"Thank you," I said, and she paused to look at me again. Had I not thanked her, not even once, this whole week? "Thanks for everything," I added. She smiled and nodded.

I realized that I had been far too quick to judge Jun. Father had called her trash, a whore, every name in the book. But I was beginning to understand that his attitudes and behavior were not necessarily something I should seek to emulate. Jun wasn't exactly the maternal type, true enough. Today she was wearing an apron made of black vinyl with a picture of a red motorcycle and words that read, "Save Gas. Ride Me." Still, she had been kind to me all week while I hadn't exactly been at my best. She and Iroh had taken me in, taken care of me, when I truly had nowhere else to go. It wasn't their fault my life was a mess, and it wasn't their job to fix it. But for some reason, they were trying anyway.

Although I had to be careful with the water and razor near my injury, I managed to clean myself with a little effort. My swollen eye felt much better after a good washing, and I was even able to open it partially for the first time. Twenty minutes later I headed downstairs, freshly showered and shaven, wearing jeans and a black t-shirt that fit reasonably well and didn't stink of smoke.

The Jasmine Dragon was starting to fill up with customers so I ducked into the kitchen to find Katara bent over, peering into the oven at something. I leaned against the wall, admiring the view, until she noticed me behind her. "Zuko! Where are the potholders?"

I straightened up and began pulling open drawers and cabinets until I found an oven mitt and passed it to her. She slipped it on and pulled a tray of muffins out of the stove. They smelled incredible, and when my stomach rumbled it reminded me that I'd been on basically a liquid diet for the past week. I had lost weight and muscle mass, and was feeling slightly light-headed just from this little bit of activity. I was definitely sick of playing the invalid.

"What's in those?" I asked, leaning over her shoulder to look at them.

"My special recipe, very healthy. They're papaya and lychee nut muffins," she said proudly.

Okay, that sounded disgusting. What the hell was a lychee nut? But they smelled really good. And when Katara pulled a chunk off with her fingers, slipped a piece between her pink lips, and held the rest out to me, I decided it was time to live dangerously. She slid a morsel into my mouth and the flavor burst across my tongue, moist and sweet with an underlying earthiness. Not unlike the taste of Katara herself. I swallowed carefully without aggravating my cheekbone and gave her a one-sided smile. "It's a masterpiece."

"Do you want more?"

"Will you keep feeding me?"

She laughed. "You've gotten lazy."

I reached out and pulled her against me, my hands tight across her back, and leaned down to whisper in her ear. "The muffins are good, but I'd rather taste you." Then I did.

A loud throat-clearing startled us and we broke apart. "Well, nephew, I'm glad to see you've got your appetite back." Uncle Iroh reached between us to snatch one of Katara's muffins, popping the entire thing into his mouth. "MMMM! These are amazing!" He ate another one, crumbs falling into his gray beard.

"Pace yourself, old man." Maybe I sounded a little petulant, but I was ravenous, and I didn't want anyone touching Katara's muffin but me.

"If you like them, I'll bake another few dozen for you." She glanced at my expression. "Later, though. We're going to eat lunch now."

Iroh nodded. "I'll be busy with the noon rush. Why don't you two use the back porch?" He headed out to the cash register, and I felt my mood lighten again as soon as I was alone with Katara.

She began gathering up a tray of food and silverware, and I held open the back door for her. Whereas the front patio was for customers, the back porch was private. It was small, and cluttered with Jun's container garden. Pots full of tomatoes, eggplants, and herbs crowded along the railing, vines reaching out toward the sun. We settled at the wrought iron table and I allowed myself to enjoy the cool breeze, a faint trace of honeysuckle in the wind. After a week closed up in the attic, I could feel a weight lifting off my chest in the fresh air.

Katara didn't rush to fill the silence with inane chatter. I realized that I'd never eaten with her before. This was essentially our first date, and I was pretty sorry company. I searched for a potential topic of conversation that wouldn't somehow come back to me or my family, which I was absolutely unwilling to discuss.

"Who taught you how to cook?" I eventually asked.

She smiled. "My mom. She was a great cook. I used to help her all the time."

What an idiot I was. Of course it was her mom, who Ty Lee told me had died. I waited for her to get maudlin, or turn around and ask about my mom, but she didn't.

"I want to go to college at the Culinary Institute of America. Maybe be a pastry chef or something."

"Really?" I encouraged her to elaborate and she told me some of her plans. I picked at my food, chewing carefully, and let her do most of the talking. But unlike most of the girls I was used to, what she said was actually interesting. I was impressed by her passion and ambition.

When we were done eating, I helped her carry the tray back into the kitchen and set it on the counter, then headed toward the stairs.

"Where are you going?" she asked. I turned to find her gesturing to the sink. "These dishes aren't going to wash themselves." She picked up a towel and threw it to me. "I'll make it easy for you. You can dry."

I regarded the towel suspiciously as she began running the water and piling our dishes into the sink, along with a bunch of other cups and silverware that had obviously been used by customers. I figured I wouldn't score any points with her if I mentioned that I had never actually done dishes before, so I decided to man up and stood near the wire rack on her right. She had pulled her sleeves up and her arms were sunk into the soapy water in the industrial sized sink, all the way to her elbows. She washed a plate in one side of the sink, rinsed it in the other side, then handed it to me. I swiped the towel around and stacked it on the rack. Not too hard. I could handle this. We fell into a rhythm, working together, and she began humming something quietly under her breath. It was surprisingly relaxing. That is, until she handed me the last dish, pulled the plug in the sink, and then turned toward me with a mischievous grin, followed by a swipe of her hand that sent a blast of soap bubbles splattering across my chest.

"Hey!" I wiped at the bubbles, but when I looked up, she lifted another handful out of the sink and threw them straight at my head. They didn't fly well, ending up on my shoulder, but she just giggled and reached in for more. I beat her to it, sending a spray across her stomach. We scrambled for dominance, each blasting the other with as many bubbles as we could grasp, until the sink was empty and we were both gasping for breath. This was the first time I had laughed in a week, and it hurt my cheek, but it was worth it.

Katara reached out and started wiping the bubbles from my shirt, shaking them off her hand onto the linoleum floor. I did the same, flicking the soap off the top of her head, then her nose, then her chin. She moved down my chest, her fingers lingering as she cleaned me. I traced the line of her throat, her collarbones, then my hands drifted lower. Her white cotton blouse was soaked and I could see her demure little bra underneath, and the dusky outline of her nipples under that. I rubbed my knuckles lightly across her nipples once, then back, then again, until they hardened and puckered in response.

I looked up to hold her gaze. No one had ever touched her like this. The fierce pleasure I felt in knowing I was the only man who had ever made her breath quicken, seen her eyes glaze over with desire, added to my enjoyment. I leaned down to kiss her lips, capturing her labored breath. Then I shifted my hands so that my palms cupped her breasts, squeezing lightly, measuring their weight. She was perfection. I increased the pressure in my fingers, swallowing her moan as my thumbs circled her nipples.

Need slammed through me. I wanted to seize her mouth, grind against her, suckle her breasts so hard she screamed with pleasure. But the damage to my face made anything like that impossible, and perhaps it was for the best. This was hardly the time or the place. With a self-control I hadn't known I possessed, my hands slowed and moved to the small of her back. My kiss left her lips, tracing over her pert nose to her forehead. We embraced each other, there by the sink, until our heartbeats calmed and our breathing had returned to normal.

"If you ever need help with the dishes again, call me. Please," I murmured into her ear. She giggled and I pulled back, nodding my head toward the pantry on the other side of the kitchen. "There's a lost and found box in there. You should be able to find a dry shirt. I'm going to go upstairs. Will you come back up after you've changed?"

She nodded. "To _study_," she warned with a smile.

I held my hands up innocently. "I'll be a model student. I swear. You're the one I'm worried about. You can't seem to keep your hands to yourself."

She laughed and punched me playfully, then I turned and left the kitchen. I meant what I said, though. I'd wash her dishes anytime.


	17. Chapter 17: Assonance

**Title:** The Taming of the Shrew  
**Author:** setlib  
**Rating:** T-rated for language and sexual content  
**Setting:** Alternate Universe – modern high school, no bending  
**Pairings:** Zuko x Katara  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own the rights to any characters from Avatar: The Last Airbender.

**Summary:** Zuko and Katara are seniors in high school. He teases her, then ignores her. She despises him. But when Zuko's father kicks him out of the house and he has to move in with his hippie Uncle Iroh, he begins to see Katara in a new light. But as the bard warned, "the course of true love never did run smooth."

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**The Taming of the Shrew, Chapter 17: Assonance**

I quickly located the lost and found box and pulled out a soft red sweater. I snuck into the downstairs bathroom and changed, squeezing the water out of my bra and shirt and then rolling them up into a damp ball. I wouldn't normally go around without a bra, especially wearing a fuzzy sweater that rubbed against my already sensitive skin every time I moved. But being around Zuko was definitely releasing a side of myself I had never explored before, one willing to tease and tempt and take a few risks. I looked at myself in the mirror, noting the way the material hugged my curves, and smiled with anticipation. I couldn't wait to see the look of appreciation in his eyes.

I had been careful, so careful, all morning not to make any mention of his injury. After that first blunder where I glanced at it and he started to withdraw, I had fought the constant temptation to stare at the red, puckered scar that bisected his face. I was burning with questions, but I could tell how on edge he was, and knew instinctively that this was not the time to interrogate him. Over the past hour, he had let go of some of his anxiety and pain. I believed in the incredible healing power of smiling, and laughing, and touch. Especially touch. That certainly seemed to be Zuko's favorite, I thought with a grin. When he was more relaxed, and felt safe, then maybe he'd be ready to confide in me.

After using the facilities and washing my hands, I noticed the Saturday newspaper sticking out of the trash can. A picture caught my eye and I pulled it out, spreading it across the sink.

"HAVE YOU SEEN THIS MAN?" read the headline, next to an artist's rendering that looked exactly like the mask Zuko had worn at Halloween. The article urged anyone who had information to contact the police in relation to the "vicious, unprovoked attack on a promising young track star."

I crumpled the paper in my hand. In my worry about Zuko, I had almost forgotten about Stefan. I had avoided asking Zuko any questions about last weekend, but now I realized that I couldn't wait any longer. I needed answers. Now.

I climbed the stairs back to the attic to find him sitting on a rickety chair in front of the window, sorting through the piles of homework I'd brought him. I walked over and held the paper out. He glanced at it, his good eye widening, then snatched it out of my hands. When he finished scanning the article and looked back up at me, I gasped when I saw the anger in his face.

"Do you actually think I did this?" he growled.

I shook my head desperately. "No—"

"You think I would attack Stefan?"

"I don't know what to think! When you left me, you were wearing that mask. Then the next thing I knew, I heard screaming." He threw the paper to the ground and looked away. His hurt expression tore at me. "You know something! So, explain it to me!"

He shook his head. "Leave it alone."

"I can't leave it alone! A crime has been committed. Stefan is suffering!"

"I'm suffering too!" he shouted back at me.

"Then tell me what happened."

"I have nothing to tell you." He gestured to the attic stairs. "Just go, Katara."

I stepped forward instead, sank to my knees and pressed my head to his chest. "Don't shut me out, Zuko. I want to help. I want to understand. Please trust me."

"Trust?" His voice was cold and I looked up into his face. I saw something new there – not anger, or hurt. Fear. Who was he afraid of? "Do you trust me Katara?" I nodded jerkily. "Then trust me to handle this. Don't interfere. And don't tell anyone else that you saw me in that mask. Do you understand? You can't talk to anyone about this."

I hesitated. That was a hell of a lot to ask. Stefan deserved justice. Zuko knew something. I was sure of those two facts. But I was uncertain about everything else. Could I trust him to do the right thing? I knew this was a turning point – the future of our relationship hung on my answer.

"All right, Zuko," I murmured. "I won't ask you about the mask. But can you at least tell me about your face? What happened to you?" He gripped my shoulders and began to push me away. "No!" I cried, wrapping my arms around his waist and burying my face against his hip. He bent over me, his hands sliding across my back, and I felt a shudder wrack his body.

"If you want to help me," he said hoarsely, "then just believe in me. That's all I need."

We both straightened, and I raised my hands to cup his cheeks, very gently. I sat up on my knees and pulled him down to me, answering him with a kiss. When his hands circled my waist and pulled me closer, I breathed a sigh of relief. I hadn't gotten my answers, not this time. Zuko was stubborn and guarded and afraid to let anyone in. I would have to be patient. But at least he wasn't withdrawing from me completely.

I spent the afternoon hanging out in his room. We did homework, played cards, listened to music. Zuko was lost without his ipod and I had to teach him how to use Iroh's old radio. I don't think he'd ever seen an antenna before. I resisted the urge to ask him why – why he didn't have his things, why he was living with Iroh – because it was yet another subject he refused to discuss. But by late afternoon he seemed completely relaxed around me again, and we were both laughing and teasing. And touching.

He caressed my hair while I was trying to read, seeming fascinated by its length. He sat next to me when we played _War_, our hips pressed together, his hand resting heavily, possessively across my thigh. When a slow song came on the radio, he pulled me to my feet for a dance.

"I should have taken you to Homecoming," he whispered in my ear.

"You can make it up to me at Prom," I replied with a laugh.

His hands roamed while we danced, kneading my hips, squeezing my shoulders, gliding over my breasts. They were more sensitive now, bare under this sweater, and Zuko slid his fingers gently, using the texture of the material to drive me wild. My hands were equally busy, revisiting the lines of his body that had been burned into my memory. The flex of his bicep, the ridges of his abdomen, the hard curves of his shoulders all called to me. He held my lips in a kiss and walked me back toward the cot, following me as I leaned back onto the mattress so that we never stopped touching each other.

He was quick to settle himself over me, his weight holding me down, his erection pressing insistently between my legs even through the layers of our jeans. I opened my mouth for him but his kiss was still reserved, perhaps because his jaw was hurting. But he didn't seem to want to stop, so I decided to experiment a little, sucking on his bottom lip, my tongue venturing into his mouth to practice stroking and sliding. I must have been doing something right because he groaned, his hips digging into mine. I traced my hands down his back as his muscles bunched and trembled, slipping under his shirt to find a light sheen of sweat dusting his skin.

I reached lower, sliding my fingers beneath the waistband of his jeans. My first thought was, _no underwear? _That was so naughty. And hot. He must seriously be an ass man. I had already noticed that his hands seemed to gravitate to my behind whenever he got a chance, with a frequency that made me suspect that maybe he had a bit of a thing for a girl like me, endowed with extra curves back there. I remembered the first day of school, when Suki had told me she thought he had a great ass. Well, she had been soooo right. He was hard, and tight, and when I gripped him there he moaned and thrust his tongue into my mouth, grabbing my chin and tilting it so he could drive even deeper.

Suddenly he pulled back with a curse and rolled off me, his hand cradling his injured cheek. A thin stream of blood trickled out from between his fingers.

"Zuko! Let me get something for you!" I rolled off the narrow cot (without falling, this time) and scrambled around until I found a cloth napkin leftover from a snack we had earlier. I pulled some ice cubes out of his water glass and rolled them up in the napkin, bringing the impromptu ice pack to him.

"Thanks," he gritted, and when he reached out to take the ice from me, I could see that a part of his scar where the stitches had recently been removed had popped open a little.

"I'm so sorry!" I said while he held the ice pack to his cheek.

He snorted. "It's my fault, not yours. I guess this is a good way of making sure we don't go too far."

I sat back a little. "Maybe I should go…"

He reached out and grabbed my arm. "No!" He caught himself and gentled his grip. "I mean, please stay, Katara."

"Okay."

I stretched out next to him again like I had earlier that morning. His right arm pulled me tight against his shoulder while he continued to hold the ice pack steady with his other hand. I relaxed into the heat of his body, realizing that just lying next to him was almost as enjoyable as the full-on makeout session we'd had moments ago. His heartbeat was steady and strong under my ear, his rich scent, like smoke and cinnamon, surrounding me. I'm not sure if I slept, or exactly how long we stayed like that, but I didn't want it to end. Finally, though, the sunlight began slanting through the window and I knew it was late afternoon. Gran Gran would need my help with the dinner crowd at the restaurant.

"I have to go." I sighed and traced my hand down his chest.

He gripped my elbow. "I know."

I stood slowly, gathered my things, while he sat up and watched me. I paused at the stairs to the attic and turned to ask him the same question I had asked him at Homecoming.

"When you see me in school on Monday, are you going to talk to me?"

He grinned, one-sided, slightly wicked. "Hell, yes."

I smiled back. Finally, an answer I wanted to hear.

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Monday morning after I got off the bus I stayed near the stairs in the parking lot, waiting for Zuko to arrive. Azula pulled into the lot in her little red convertible, Mai riding with her. I tensed – they were going to have to walk right by me to get into school. Then I heard a rumbling coming from the street, getting louder and louder, until a black motorcycle pulled into the lot, past Azula, sliding to a halt next to the bike rack.

The rider wore all black – tight jeans, zippered boots, leather jacket, shiny helmet. He swung a long leg over the bike and stood, pulling off his helmet. I heard gasps from around me and realized one of them was mine. It was Zuko. And he looked like a bad, bad boy.

He stowed his helmet, grabbed his backpack, and walked directly to me. "Morning, gorgeous," he said. He wrapped an arm around my waist, pulled me to him, and leaned down to take my mouth in a slow, thorough kiss. In front of everyone!

I leaned back. "Are you doing this to piss your sister off? Or your ex-girlfriend?" I didn't mind the idea, exactly. They'd both been horrible to me and I liked the idea of making them squirm. But I wanted to know.

He raised his undamaged eyebrow. "That's just an added bonus. I'm kissing you because I haven't been able to think about doing anything else since you left me Saturday."

"Well. In that case, kiss me again." And for good measure, as our lips met, I reached down and squeezed his ass, nice and slow. Just in case they were still watching.

He chuckled and broke off the kiss. "Now who's showing off?"

"Give me a break. You're my first boyfriend." I reached my fingers up to trace the line of his cheek just under his scar. It was looking better, at least to me, but I knew it would be a shock for the other students. Considering Zuko's private nature, this was going to be a rough day for him. He needed my support. "I want everyone to know we're together."

He grasped my hand and we moved away from the lot. As we climbed the steps up to school together, I felt a little like Olivia Newton John in _Grease_, giggling happily with Danny's arm slung over her shoulder. Zuko was, in my opinion, even better looking than John Travolta, however I seriously doubted he was on the verge of breaking into song and dance.

But wouldn't that be a sight to see?


	18. Chapter 18: Comic Relief

**Title:** The Taming of the Shrew  
**Author:** setlib  
**Rating:** T-rated for language and sexual content  
**Setting:** Alternate Universe – modern high school, no bending  
**Pairings:** Zuko x Katara  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own the rights to any characters from Avatar: The Last Airbender.

**Summary:** Zuko and Katara are seniors in high school. He teases her, then ignores her. She despises him. But when Zuko's father kicks him out of the house and he has to move in with his hippie Uncle Iroh, he begins to see Katara in a new light. But as the bard warned, "the course of true love never did run smooth."

**Author's Note:** As some of you may know, the Fanfiction website is being very buggy right now about updating stories. Many thanks to ZStar2010 for offering to help and AnnaAza for teaching me a work-around so I could post this chapter. For those who have clamored for an update, please remember: Good things come to those who wait!

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**The Taming of the Shrew, Chapter 18: Comic Relief**

The first day back to school was surreal, in more ways than one. First, I had to deal with the predictable, but no less annoying, reactions to the sight of my scar. Gasps, whispers, and sideways glances were common. While no one asked me about it outright, the few people who were foolish enough to stare looked away quickly as soon as I met their gaze. All this I had anticipated.

What I hadn't expected, however, was the difference it would make to be openly together with Katara. Unlike Mai, who didn't like to be touched publicly, Katara wanted to hold hands with me in the hallways, hug me in front of her locker, and stroke my leg or my back repeatedly during English class. Every time I began to feel angry and tense about my scar, her touch distracted me. Calmed me.

I survived Latin while Katara went off to Statistics. I was hoping to spend Break curled up in a quiet corner of the library with her, but when I went to meet her at her locker, I realized I wasn't going to be that lucky. She wasn't there yet, but her brother and his girlfriend were waiting for me. I wasn't sure what she had told them, and I braced myself for the inevitable interrogation.

"It's about time!" Suki shouted with a grin when I stopped in front of them.

"Time for what?"

"For Katara to get herself a hot boyfriend." She wiggled her eyebrows at me and Sokka shot her a dirty look.

Okaaay….not the reaction I was expecting. Then Sokka stepped forward with a frown, sizing me up. I returned the favor, glancing over his scrawny frame. I could take him, easy. I was pretty sure that wasn't a good approach but, honestly, I didn't have the first clue how I was supposed to bond with this goofball. I settled for inclining my head. "We've got AP Calculus together," was all I could think to say.

Sokka crossed his arms. "No shit. I didn't come here to ask you about math homework. What makes you think you can date my little sister?" Suki elbowed him sharply but he ignored her.

"I'd say that's her decision, not yours."

"I'm responsible for protecting her. Making sure she stays away from losers."

"Like you did with Haru?" I challenged. They both had the good sense to look embarrassed. "That asshole abandoned her at Homecoming."

"How did you know that?" Sokka asked.

"Because I'm the one who punched him out that night." Sokka looked surprised at my revelation. Suki looked intrigued. "Look, I'm not going to hurt Katara. She's a great girl. She's smart, kind, funny." Sexy, too, but I wasn't going to tell her brother that. He relaxed, nodding, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

"What's going on here?" Katara arrived and slipped an arm around my waist, leaning heavily against my side. I bent down and kissed her, slowly, on the lips while her hand splayed against my chest.

"Your brother and I were just getting acquainted." I looked back up to find Sokka's relaxed posture gone, instead looking like he wanted to push me away from Katara.

Suki stepped in between us. "That was a sweet ride this morning, Zuko. Where'd you get the motorcycle?"

"My Aunt Jun collects and restores them. She's letting me use her Ducati Monster for now."

Katara looked up at me. "When did you learn to ride a motorcycle?"

I shrugged. "She taught me. I got my license last week."

"Maybe you could teach Sokka how to ride?" Suki suggested.

I really, really, didn't want to agree to that. But Sokka's eyes lit up and I stifled a groan. It might be a small price to pay to get on his good side. "Yeah. Sure."

Katara laughed. "Why do you want Sokka to ride a motorcycle? Are you tired of driving him around everywhere?"

Suki grinned. "You saw Zuko this morning. You've got to admit, a man on a motorcycle is sexy as all hell."

"Suki!" cried Katara and Sokka simultaneously. He grabbed Suki by the arm and pulled her down the hall. "We have to get to class," he growled.

Katara wrapped both arms around my waist and looked up at me with a grin. "Thank you for trying to get along with my brother. I know he can be a pest."

"Let's see if we can find a suitable way for you to demonstrate your gratitude." I kissed her pert nose and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I have a few ideas."

"I bet you do. But, sadly, we have to get to class too."

I groaned. I had been trying not to think about my next class. I had Environmental Science with Azula and Mai. Great.

Katara poked me in the stomach. "If you can behave yourself for two more periods, we can have lunch together."

"Behave myself? I'm not the one you should be worried about. My sister is vicious."

"You're pretty scary yourself."

I grinned, and could feel the scar tissue stretch across my face. "Yeah. Let's see how she likes the new me."

I gave Katara a parting kiss and headed to class. Azula and Mai weren't there yet, so I staked out a desk in the back corner, facing the door so I could see them come in. I felt better knowing there were walls at my back and they couldn't sneak up on me. They didn't come in until after the bell rang, and then they ignored me completely, sitting on the other side of the room and not even looking at me. Well, fine. The silent treatment was a bit of a relief.

I should have known it wouldn't be that easy. At the end of class, they waited until everyone else left, and then approached me. Suddenly sitting in the back corner didn't seem like such a bright idea. I was penned in, trapped. Azula stood in front of me, hands on her hips. Mai lingered quietly in the background, dressed all in black like some sort of goth super-villain sidekick.

"Father has a message for you," Azula said with a cold sneer.

Rage filled me. I stood suddenly and grabbed Azula's red silk shirt in my fist, pulling her forward until her face was inches from my own. "I already got the message. Loud and clear," I growled, tilting my head so she got a good, close look at my scar. "You tell that son of a bitch to go fuck himself." I shoved her away from me so hard that she landed, startled, in Mai's arms, then I stalked out of the room.

It took me most of the next class to calm down, but knowing that I was going to see Katara soon helped. I entered the cafeteria with some trepidation. Our Freshmen year, Azula and I had secured permission to leave campus for lunch, usually going to one of the restaurants downtown, or going home to eat something our housekeeper prepared for us. Since then I could count on one hand the number of times I had actually eaten in the humid, hormonal hellhole that passed for a school lunchroom. But today I had some leftovers I had scrounged from the Jasmine Dragon this morning, crammed into a brown paper bag. Leftovers! In a paper bag! It was completely unappetizing. How did people eat like this every day?

I scanned the room, searching the raucous crowd for a familiar head of curly brown hair. Just as I was getting frustrated, I felt a hand on my back and turned to find Katara behind me. Sokka and Suki were there, too, along with Aang and a short girl with black hair I didn't recognize. While Katara hugged me, the rest of the gang streamed forward into the room.

"Hey, how are you holding up?" Katara asked.

I sighed and squeezed her back. "I'm better now."

She grabbed my hand and pulled me into the mass of people, threading her way toward a table along the windows where her friends were already getting settled. I tossed my bag down and straddled the bench, Katara nestling herself firmly beside me with her back against my chest. I closed my eyes, blocking out the hum of voices, and let myself breath in the scent of her hair, wrap my arm around the curve of her hip. I didn't like being here, completely out of my element. But with her beside me, maybe I could make it through.

"What the hell happened to your face?" said a harsh voice.

I whipped my head around to see who had spoken. It was the short girl in the green hoodie. She was leaning forward, elbows resting on the table, staring at me unabashedly. Beneath her choppy black hair, she raised an eyebrow in challenge. Was I supposed to let that kind of thing slide, just because she was Katara's friend?

"What happened to yours?" I growled back.

To my surprise, she burst out laughing. "Nice comeback. You've got some fire in you, Sparky, I'll give you that."

I looked at Katara for an explanation. She shrugged. "Toph has a thing for nicknames. I wouldn't worry about being called 'Sparky.' Trust me, it could have been worse."

I tried to say as little as possible for the rest of lunch, using the time instead to watch the dynamics between Katara's little group of friends. Aang still hadn't gotten over his crush on her, obviously, and her excessive friendliness really wasn't helping settle the matter. He was sitting diagonally across from me and wore a pathetic expression like a puppy that had just been kicked, especially when Katara began popping little bites of leftover muffin into my mouth. I deliberately nibbled at her fingers each time, sucking on her slender fingertips. While this elicited giggles from Katara, by the end of lunch it looked like Toph, Aang, and Sokka wanted to take turns beating the crap out of me. Well, fine. Join the club. They've got t-shirts.

I probably wasn't going to see her the rest of the day, so I walked her back to her locker just to drag out the time before I would have to kiss her goodbye. I couldn't believe how important she'd become to me in such a short time. A few weeks ago I'd been envying her friends for being able to enjoy her trusting, open affection. And now, despite how I'd treated her, she'd opened up her circle and drawn me in, no questions asked. When I was around her I didn't worry about my scar, I forgot about my pain, and began to believe that maybe I _could_ heal, with time.

"I wish I didn't have to wait until tomorrow to see you again," I murmured against her hair as I hugged her.

"Who says you have to wait?" she replied. "You're not that far from Lighthouse Inn. Ask Iroh if you can stop by after dinner." She winked. "Tell him we have to work on English homework together."

At the thought of being able to see her again in just a few hours, I felt like a weight had lifted off my chest. I smiled. "There are some passages I was hoping you'd read aloud for me."

She poked me in the chest. "Behave. And ask Iroh if you can borrow his truck. I'll bake some muffins for him to try to sell at the store."

"Yes, ma'am."

She laughed and kissed me goodbye. I watched her walk away and took a deep breath. Somehow, I had made it through the day. And now I was actually looking forward to the night.

I skipped out on cross country after school. I wasn't sure if I was ever going to go back. As I circled around the track on my motorcycle, I could see Stefan sitting on the sidelines, cheering on the other guys despite being on crutches. An unfamiliar tension twisted my gut. I didn't have any reason to feel guilty. It's not like any of this was my fault. I was as much a victim as he was. I didn't owe him anything. I gunned the Ducati and sped back to the Jasmine Dragon.

Iroh greeted me at the door with an apron and a broom. Before I could even think about starting on homework, he had me sweeping, washing (significantly less enjoyable without Katara), serving, and even cashiering. I worked up a sheen of sweat and realized I was going to get plenty of exercise living with my uncle, even without a home gym and two swimming pools. I also developed a new respect for Iroh who, despite his girth, had enough stamina to bustle through the store on his feet for hours, cheerfully greeting many of his customers as if they were old friends. I was tired after the dinner rush was over, but I didn't hesitate to load my backpack into Iroh's truck and head over to Katara's place.

I entered Lighthouse Inn through the patio doors to find myself at the back of a cozy little dining room where a few older couples were finishing their meals. Katara emerged from the kitchen to distribute bills and top off drinks, moving between tables with a friendly smile and unconscious grace. I leaned against the wall to watch her, feeling a sudden sympathy. Her feet must have been hurting after hours of work – mine were – and she was probably anxious about having to wait until so late to start her homework – I know I was. Suddenly I realized that, as unpleasant as my newfound poverty was, it helped me understood her much better. The first week of school I had enjoyed teasing her without any thought for how much it might be upsetting her, or any regard for how difficult her life might already be without me adding to it. I was ashamed of my callousness, but I couldn't do anything to change my past actions. My future, however, was entirely in my hands.

I straightened and headed toward Katara, walking up behind her while she was folding napkins at the server's station, and slid an arm around her waist. "Can I help?" I said.

She gave a startled little squeal and then relaxed back into my embrace, laughing. "You don't have to do anything. Why don't you start working on your homework? I'll join you in about a half hour when I'm finished."

"Or, I could help you, and you could join me that much sooner," I suggested, reaching my arms forward on either side of her to start folding napkins with the same smooth movements I'd seen her use.

She ducked under my arm. "Let me clear the tables. Will you meet me in the back?"

I nodded. As soon as I was done folding, I joined her in the kitchen. It was much larger than Uncle Iroh's, full of gleaming new equipment. This renovation must have cost a pretty penny. They were probably in debt up to their necks.

Katara slipped an armful of dirty dishes into the sink and then went back out to the dining room to gather another load. I looked at the dirty water with distaste but sunk my arms into it anyway, swiping a sponge along the edges of the plates and then dipping them into the rinse water and loading them onto the rack. No problem. I could do this, although it would be a lot more fun once Katara joined me.

An elderly lady shuffled around the corner, her thin arms swallowed by oversize oven mitts as she carried a tray full of steaming hot muffins toward the cooling rack. She glanced at me with an almost comical look of alarm and dropped the entire tray onto the floor with a crash. I realized she was facing my left cheek, and I couldn't blame her for being scared of a strange, scarred man in her kitchen. I held out my hands, dripping bubbles onto the floor, and tried to calm her down.

"I was just trying to –"

She plucked a large metal spatula off the counter and waved it over her head, shuffling toward me, screeching. "Get out of here, you hoodlum! Who do you think you are?" She swung at my head and I ducked, backing up until I was trapped against the refrigerator.

The door swung open and Katara raced in. "What was that noise? Gran Gran, what happened? Are you okay?"

"Is _she_ okay? She attacked me!" I sputtered.

Katara put her hands on the old lady's shoulders and rolled her eyes at me. "Seriously, Zuko. She's seventy-eight years old."

The white-haired menace raised her spatula and waved it in my face. "You know this ruffian, Katara?"

"His name's Zuko. He's Iroh's nephew."

The old woman snorted and looked me up and down. "Guess if he's with Iroh, he can't be all bad."

I couldn't believe it. I think this was the first time that my relation to my uncle had actually improved someone's estimation of my character.

"Zuko, this is my grandmother."

Despite my irritation, my training in good manners took over automatically. I schooled my face into a respectful mask and gave a short bow. "I'm honored to meet you."

"Don't get any ideas." She pointed a bony finger at me. "My granddaughter's a good girl."

"Yes, ma'am," I replied dryly.

Katara sighed and used the hand on her grandmother's shoulder to turn her toward the door. "Why don't you let us finish cleaning up in here? You can have a rest and watch some TV. The DVR recorded your show."

"Oprah? Oh, good. I just love that woman." She set her utensil-cum-weapon down on the counter and left the kitchen.

I walked back to the sink to finish the dishes, shaking my head. "Now I know where you get your spunk from. She's downright scary."

Katara grabbed a towel and started drying and putting away the dishes on the rack. "Don't worry, she's not very fast. I'm sure you could outrun her, if you had to."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

We finished the dishes quickly, and when I drained the sink, I momentarily considered drenching her with the leftover bubbles, then letting one thing lead to another, the way it had at the Jasmine Dragon. But then the image of her screaming banshee of a grandmother popped into my mind, and I knew if she caught me manhandling Katara, she'd shove that spatula where the sun don't shine.

Katara turned off the lights and locked the door, and I followed her across the parking lot to a small house set back behind the lighthouse. We walked into a cramped kitchen to find a middle-aged man hunched over a desk with a pile of paperwork and a calculator.

"Dad? I want you to meet someone."

He looked up and I was immediately struck by his bright blue eyes, like a mirror image of Katara's. His long brown hair was twisted into some kind of strange dreadlocks and, I realized as he stood, he was well over six feet tall and broad-shouldered enough to dominate the small room.

"Zuko, this is my Dad, Hakoda Iweda."

"It's great to meet you, sir." I stuck out my right hand and he clasped it in a firm grip.

"Dad, this is Zuko Fujiwara. My boyfriend."

At this revelation, his grip tightened uncomfortably. "Well, well. Ozai's kid, huh? And how is your father these days?" His voice rumbled, deep and loud, and none too friendly.

I resisted the urge to swallow nervously. I had to play this carefully. I didn't know how Hakoda had met Father, but he didn't seem pleased. I decided to risk telling a portion of the truth. "I wouldn't know, sir. We had an argument, and he kicked me out of the house. I'm living with my Uncle Iroh now."

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Katara look at me in surprise, but I didn't break away from Hakoda's piercing gaze. To my relief, he didn't seem bothered by my scar at all. He seemed to deliberate for a moment, then nodded his head and released my hand. "That could be the best thing that ever happened to you, son."

Katara grabbed my newly freed hand before I could respond. "Dad, we're going to study in my room together for a while."

Hakoda glanced at her. "Leave the door open," he said, then sat back down at the desk.

I followed Katara down the narrow hallway to her bedroom. It was, literally, smaller than the closet in my old room, but I knew better than to mention that out loud.

"Nice, uh, color," I said, pointing at the sky blue walls. "It suits you."

"Thanks." Her backpack was already on her bed, so she sat by it and then patted the quilt next to her. "Have a seat. We've both got a lot of homework to finish tonight."

There was no desk, no chair. The room was too small for anything else but a dresser. I sat near her on the bed, dropping my backpack to the floor and eyeing the open bedroom door skeptically. "Is your Dad going to be okay with us studying like this?"

She shrugged. "He's going to have to learn to be okay with it."

I smiled and reached out to take her hand, rubbing her knuckles lightly with my thumb. "You told your Dad I was your boyfriend. That's the first time I ever heard you call me that." Her eyes widened in surprise, she opened her mouth to say something, but I cut her off with a kiss. "I liked it," I whispered against her lips.

"Knock it off, you two." I looked up to find Sokka lounging in the doorway, arms crossed.

"Mind your own business," Katara said. "As many times as I've seen you kissing Suki, you don't have any right to complain about me."

He scowled. "That's different."

"Different how?"

"Because…because you're my sister!" His hands waved in the air as he fumbled with an explanation. "And she's not. And when I'm kissing her, it's different. It's not like kissing my sister."

"Gross!" Katara exclaimed.

I chuckled. "You better not think about kissing your sister like that."

"Watch it, Zuko. Or I'll sic Gran Gran on you." He pointed at me, grinning. "Beware the Geriatric Attack! She has no teeth, and no mercy!" After delivering this parting shot, he went back down the hallway toward his room, cackling the whole way.

I groaned. So he knew about the little episode in the kitchen, did he? Great. It would probably be all over the whole school by morning. Katara and I got busy studying, but I couldn't help imagining Sokka in his room, posting pictures online of their grandmother chasing me with a spatula.

So much for my bad boy image.


	19. Chapter 19: Emotional Memory

**Title:** The Taming of the Shrew  
**Author:** setlib  
**Rating:** T-rated for language and sexual content  
**Setting:** Alternate Universe – modern high school, no bending  
**Pairings:** Zuko x Katara  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own the rights to any characters from Avatar: The Last Airbender.

**Summary:** Zuko and Katara are seniors in high school. He teases her, then ignores her. She despises him. But when Zuko's father kicks him out of the house and he has to move in with his hippie Uncle Iroh, he begins to see Katara in a new light. But as the bard warned, "the course of true love never did run smooth."

**Author's Note:** If you've read any of my other stories, you know I'm perfectly willing to write graphic love scenes. However, when I started this story, I promised myself that this time I would keep it to a T-rating. So you're just going to have to use your imagination in certain sections!

**P.S.** I enjoyed watching the video Zuko's on a Boat as "research" for this chapter:  
www(dot)youtube(dot)com/watch?v=kH1uJp6sTRo

**P.P.S.** The information on Japanese family law is correct. Feel free to google.

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**The Taming of the Shrew, Chapter 19: Emotional Memory**

The week flew by. Zuko was a constant presence at my side, and gradually Aang and Toph began to accept him, at least a little. He also came over to my house to study again, and I made sure he and Gran Gran were introduced properly. She still didn't like him, really, but at least she wasn't going to chase him around the house with a frying pan or anything.

Friday morning I was waiting for him, as usual, in the parking lot when he roared up on his sleek black bike. He parked, stowed his helmet, and I smiled as he approached.

"When are you going to take me for a ride on that thing?" I asked.

He grinned wickedly. "I'll give you a ride anytime you want."

I laughed as he pulled me close for a hug and a kiss. "I mean it. It looks like fun!"

He shrugged. "Well, the Monster is a sports bike, not really comfortable for passengers. But I'm sure Jun's got something else I could borrow. That reminds me, there's something I wanted to ask you about."

I raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"

"I realized that you and I have never been out on a real, official date. This weekend I plan to rectify that particular oversight."

"You mean studying together doesn't count?"

He shook his head. "It definitely doesn't count. I'm talking about a real date: getting dressed up, going out, and eating a dinner that you didn't have to cook yourself, for once."

"And no dishes!"

"Well, maybe you can still wash dishes, if you really want to."

I punched him in the arm. "No dishes. Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise. Can you be ready at seven on Saturday?"

I pouted. "I'll be ready, but can't you give me one clue? Just one teeny hint?"

"It involves water." Before I could press for more details, the bell rang and he dragged me to English class. I kept pestering him, but he remained completely enigmatic for the rest of the day. I could barely concentrate on class, thanks to his smug little grin. What was he planning?

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I frowned as I looked in the mirror. One of the problems with having a mystery date is that I had no idea what to wear! I only had fifteen minutes until Zuko would arrive to pick me up and it looked like my closet had exploded, spewing clothes throughout my room. I had already tried on, and discarded, almost every outfit I had. If we would be dining inside, in a fancy restaurant, I'd want an elegant dress. But of course that wouldn't work very well on a motorcycle, and besides, November nights on the coast get pretty cold. I also couldn't figure out what his clue meant – 'water' could be anything from a swimming pool to the fountain downtown.

I eventually settled on navy tights, brown boots, and a light blue tunic dress with a white belt. The dress was made out of a very fine wool, almost like cashmere (only cheaper), form-fitting and soft but also very warm. I struggled a little to close the zipper on the back, but when I looked in the mirror I was pleased with the result. The dress split on either side from the knee all the way up to my thighs. I thought it was a good compromise, feminine and yet still allowed me a wide range of movement. I considered wearing my hair down – Zuko liked it that way – but I didn't want to think about what the wind would do to it, so I quickly swept it back into a braid. I was taking my jacket out of the closet just as I heard the roar of his motorcycle pulling into the driveway.

I stepped outside to find Zuko on a new bike – I had no idea what kind it was – but it was much bigger than the other one, black and red, with a second seat and a picnic basket strapped to the back. He cut the ignition and took off his helmet, still straddling the bike as he waved me over.

"You look beautiful," he said, snaking an arm around my waist and pulling me against his side to steal a kiss. "Are you ready for your ride, princess?" He handed me a sleek white helmet and I slipped it on, adjusting the strap under my chin and climbing behind him, letting him guide my feet onto the footrests. "Are you comfortable?" I nodded. "Then wrap your arms around my waist, and hold on!" He put his helmet back on and then rose slightly, kicking the great, rumbling beast of a bike to life.

He drove slowly down our long gravel drive while I adjusted my dress and got used to sitting behind him. But when he turned onto the freeway I grabbed him tight, laughing with delight as he gunned the motor. He leaned into the curves of the winding coastal road with ease, flexing and shifting his body to guide the bike. The speed, the feel of the wind, the combination of vulnerability and danger, all sent adrenaline coursing through my blood. His leather jacket was unzipped and I snuck my hands inside, clenching them where his t-shirt stretched across his abdomen, holding on a little tighter than was strictly necessary.

To my surprise he headed away from town, and I tried to figure out what he had in mind for our big date. When he pulled off the highway I should have been able to figure it out right away – I used to come here all the time. But that had been years ago, and I hadn't been back here since Mom died. I didn't realize where we were until he pulled into Point Harbor and my stomach clenched in dread at the sight of all the boats bobbing gently in the orange light of the sunset.

Zuko parked his bike and helped me dismount. My movements were sluggish, reluctant, but he was too excited to notice. "I'll be right back!" he said, stowing his helmet and racing into the harbor office. I pulled my helmet off slowly and listened to the sound of wood creaking on the water, rigging snapping in the crisp breeze, all grating on my nerves like nails on a chalkboard.

Zuko came back out of the office waving a set of keys in his hand. "Father may have taken my car keys, but he forgot about these!" He pulled the picnic basket off his motorcycle and grabbed me by my elbow, guiding me out to the dock.

I struggled to make conversation. "So, you have your own boat?"

"All mine. My name's even on the registration. It was a present for my seventeenth birthday."

We walked further and further out onto the dock, my knees weak, my head swimming. He didn't stop until we were all the way at the end, where one ship stood out from all the others. Almost every sailboat I'd ever seen was white, but this sleek beauty was all black with red trim, a custom paint job that must have cost a fortune. It wasn't just a sailboat, it was a small yacht that sat patiently, almost heavily, on the water as if waiting for us. Despite my anxiety, I let out a low whistle.

"You got this as a birthday present?" I knew enough about boats to know this one had cost at least $100,000. When I thought about what I had gotten for my seventeenth birthday – a hand-knit sweater from Gran Gran, a new spice rack from Dad, and a mix CD from Sokka – it didn't seem possible that Zuko and I lived in the same world. But I couldn't feel jealous of him, considering that my family, though struggling to make ends meet, would never, ever, turn their backs on me. How much security could money really provide if you knew it could be taken away at any time?

He set the picnic basket down and turned to me with a smile. "This is your surprise date: a sunset cruise and a candlelit dinner. You can sit back, relax, and let me take care of everything."

He grabbed my hands and tried to pull me forward to help me onto the boat, but I didn't move. It was as if my feet were stuck to the dock, frozen in a block of ice. "I – I can't." I whispered. "I'm sorry Zuko."

He finally seemed to notice my anxiety. He rubbed my hands gently and bent down to look into my eyes. "What's wrong? Don't you know how to swim?"

"I can swim," I rasped.

"Have you ever been on a boat before?"

I nodded blindly. "I've sailed lots of times. It's just –"

"Katara, honey, what's wrong? You can tell me."

Tears swam in my eyes. My throat clogged, choking on the words, but I pushed them out. He deserved the truth, no matter how hard it was to tell him. "I used to love boating. My family would go all the time. But, when I was seven, my –" I swallowed and forced myself to continue, "My mother was killed in a boating accident."

Realization dawned across his face and the excitement drained out of him like water out of a sink. He pulled me into his arms and hugged me tight.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered into my ear. "I had no idea."

I turned my face into his shoulder. It would be easier to talk about this if I didn't have to see the pity in his eyes. "She loved the ocean. She said I took after her. Her nickname for me was 'water baby' because when I was a newborn, she said the only way she could get me to stop crying was take me out on the boat and let the waves rock me to sleep. We used to go boating together all the time."

"What happened?" Zuko asked gently.

I sighed. "She and my Dad were out on their little sailboat when a huge yacht crashed into them. The owner was some wealthy Chinese businessman named Yon Rha. We think he was drunk, but for some reason no charges were ever filed." I took a deep breath as all the old anger, the sadness, rushed back. "We still have a boat, and Sokka takes tourists out whale watching sometimes. But Dad and I haven't been able to go sailing since then."

He rested his chin on top of my head. "I understand. Let's go somewhere else. We can picnic at Observatory Park."

It was tempting to flee. So tempting. But hadn't I been running away from this for years already? Suddenly I was tired of being afraid. Tired of being denied my birthright, my place on the water, the love that Mom and I shared of being out in the ocean. It was time to face this fear.

I leaned back and met Zuko's gaze. The deep red light of sunset reflected off his golden eyes, making them spark as if they were on fire. I felt confidence fill me. I wouldn't have to do this alone.

"I want to sail with you."

He didn't try to talk me out of it, or coddle me, or patronize me. He simply asked, "Are you sure?"

I nodded. "Let's do this."

We boarded together, and he walked with me to the wheel, making sure I was comfortable. I ran my hands over the sleek black metal, trying to reacquaint myself with the rhythms of sailing while he gathered our things and prepared to set out.

I didn't offer to help him. I didn't feel steady enough to move around the ship, and besides, he was clearly capable of sailing single-handed. Instead, I let memories swamp me, memories that I'd pushed away for far too long. My mother laughing, her long brown hair blowing in the ocean breeze, my father smiling and barking out orders while Sokka and I scrambled across the deck. Since her death, it had been so painful to remember what happened that I had blocked out everything. But now I realized that I risked forgetting all the good things along with the bad. That's not what she would have wanted.

I was so deep in thought that I didn't even notice when we left the harbor. Zuko secured the sails by himself and then stood behind me, his hands gently resting over mine on the wheel as he steered us out toward the setting sun.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

I leaned back against him, the warmth of his chest in stark contrast to the cool breeze. "Better now. This brings back so many memories," I said.

"Why don't you tell me about them?"

So I did. While we sailed out into the fading light, I talked about my Mom for the first time in ten years. I was surprised at how many details I remembered. Her favorite singer (James Taylor), her favorite dessert (pistachio ice cream) and her favorite flower (snowdrops). Before I knew it, Zuko announced that it was time to drop anchor. While he took care of the sails, I unpacked the picnic basket and set up our dinner on a small round table on the deck.

It was nearly dark, but Zuko produced two large candles, set deep into heavy glass candleholders to protect them from the wind. He lit them quickly and set them on the table so they cast a gentle glow. We sat on the vinyl padded bench, leaning against each other comfortably, sharing our warmth against the cold wind coming off the water. Dinner was a collection of things he'd been able to buy downtown – curry samosas, sushi, and baked ziti with mini tortes for dessert. There were no plates, so we each picked freely from all of the dishes, often using just our fingers.

Zuko took a piece of chocolate torte and slipped it into my mouth, following it with a leisurely, thorough kiss. I pulled back and smiled at him. "I'm glad I came with you. I forgot how much I loved being on the ocean." It was like a part of me I hadn't even known was missing had been restored. I felt lighter, freer, at peace.

"I'm glad, Katara," Zuko murmured. "Do you think you'll want to go sailing again?"

"Definitely. Maybe I could go out with Sokka on our boat. It's not as nice as this, though."

"You think this is nice, come below deck and check out the GPS on this baby. It's top of the line."

I nodded, gathering up our dinner. "We can wash up, too."

Zuko was grinning with excitement as he led me down the steps. There was a spacious seating area and galley for cooking, but what really caught my eye was the built-in screen showing electronic charts of our position and heading. I whistled in admiration – Sokka relied on a little hand-held GPS to navigate. He would have _loved_ this set up.

Zuko laughed. "I know, pretty sweet, right? I'm going to chart our course back to the harbor."

He occupied himself with his shiny electronics while I washed my hands in the galley sink, then wandered around a little, curiously examining all the nooks and crannies. I opened a door made of dark wood and gasped when I saw the cabin. Black lacquer furniture lined the walls from floor to ceiling, but the room was dominated by a huge bed swathed in a blood-red silk comforter.

"Don't look at me," Zuko said wryly from right behind me. He was looking over my shoulder at the dramatic room. "My father picked out all the decorating. I know it's a little much."

I strolled into the room and sat down on the bed. The silk was cold and smooth under my hands, and I leaned back on my palms, spreading my fingers out to stroke the fabric. "I think it suits you. After all, you can be a little much sometimes, too. But that's why I like you. I might never have gotten on a boat again if it weren't for you. Thank you."

He walked over to me and reached down to take my hand. "You don't have to thank me. I did the easy part. You're the one who had to deal with the memories of your mother, and I know it wasn't easy. You have a lot of courage, Katara. That's why I like you," he said, echoing me.

"Can I ask you a question, Zuko?"

He shrugged. "Sure."

"Where is your mother?"

He tensed, and I could feel him start to pull away from me. I used my grip on his hand to keep him close, and eventually he relaxed and sat down next to me on the bed with a sigh. "It's not a very interesting story. She and my father divorced when I was ten, and she moved back to live with her family in Japan."

"When was the last time you saw her?"

He frowned. "My last memory is when the movers were loading up her stuff, and she hugged me and said, 'No matter how things may seem to change, never forget who you are.' Then she left."

My jaw dropped open. "You mean you haven't seen her since you were ten? What about visitation?"

"Japanese custody law is different. It gives one parent full custody and usually cuts the other one completely out, in order to make a clean break."

"But what about birthday cards? Phone calls?"

He shook his head. "I haven't had any contact with her at all."

"That's horrible! It's like your father didn't just divorce her – he practically banished her!"

"That's not far from the truth. She was never an American citizen. My family has been in this country for three generations, but Father met my mother when he was studying business over in Japan. He married her and brought her back here with him. But once they divorced, she had to leave. Father never allowed us to speak to her again."

I felt tears spring to my eyes. "If my mom was alive, nothing would stop me from seeing her! Zuko, it's wrong for your Father to try to keep you away from your mother." I climbed up on my knees on the bed, facing him. "You don't have to follow his stupid rules anymore! Who cares what he thinks? You can do whatever you want!"

Zuko looked strangely perplexed, as if the thought hadn't really occurred to him before. Was his father's shadow so long that it continued to control him, so completely, from afar? He began to nod slowly, then smiled at me. "You're right. I don't have to ask his permission. I bet I could find her, maybe get a private detective to help me or something."

I threw myself forward to hug him and he collapsed back onto the bed under my weight, laughing. I braced myself on my elbows and leaned down to kiss him once, twice, again, until neither of us was laughing anymore.

"Katara, there's something I've been wanting to do all night," he said, stroking my jaw. "Do you mind?" He slid his hand down to the end of my braid, slipping off the band, and began to unweave my hair. He spread it out so that it fell down around him, then fisted his hands in the hair at the back of my head and pulled me down for a kiss that was harder, hungrier than before.

It dawned on me that we were well and truly alone, with no chance of a parent or guardian or sibling wandering in to interrupt us. I had already experienced such a wide range of emotions tonight, from fear to sadness to peace. We had both shared painful secrets, and I felt so close to him, so safe. We hadn't been dating very long, but I felt certain that I could trust Zuko completely. Suddenly the slow fire that had been building between us for weeks burst into full flame, and I wanted – needed – more than kisses.

I pulled pack and realized that I was straddling him. His hands slid up my legs, under my dress. I reached behind me and tugged at my zipper, and I could feel his grip tighten on my thighs as I peeled the dress down to my waist. An answering fire lit in his gaze as he took in the sight of me in my demure white lace bra.

He asked me the same simple question that he had when we began this voyage together. "Are you sure?"

Again I nodded. "I want you, Zuko."

Pain flashed in his eyes. "Even with…this?" he asked hoarsely, gesturing at his scar.

I reached out a hand to stroke his damaged cheek. "If I could heal you, I would."

"You already have healed me." He took my hand and pulled it down gently until it lay over his heart. "Right here."

I leaned down to kiss him, giving myself up to the feel of his hands, gentle and demanding, tender and hungry at the same time. Cradled by the rhythmic rocking of the ocean, we fell into each other, so deeply that I thought I might never be whole again without him.

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**Author's Note:** Thanks to Alecdot for nominating this story for an ATLA Award! If you would like to vote, please go to citrusproductions(dot)webs(dot)com and look under the category "Best Zutara fic". Thank you!


	20. Chapter 20: Antagonist

**Title:** The Taming of the Shrew  
**Author:** setlib  
**Rating:** T-rated for language and sexual content  
**Setting:** Alternate Universe – modern high school, no bending  
**Pairings:** Zuko x Katara  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own the rights to any characters from Avatar: The Last Airbender.

**Summary:** Zuko and Katara are seniors in high school. He teases her, then ignores her. She despises him. But when Zuko's father kicks him out of the house and he has to move in with his hippie Uncle Iroh, he begins to see Katara in a new light. But as the bard warned, "the course of true love never did run smooth."

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**The Taming of the Shrew, Chapter 20: Antagonist**

I stared at the cabin ceiling, watching the silvery reflection of the moonlight chase the shadows above me. Katara was curled up at my side, dozing lightly, her head nestled on my shoulder. I knew I would have to wake her up soon so we could get back to the harbor before it got too late. But I wasn't ready to face her quite yet. Too many unfamiliar emotions were coursing through me, fighting for dominance.

I had never had sex before tonight. Oh, I'd imagined it. Several times a day. In great detail. But in all the months Mai and I had dated, whenever she pressed me to take our relationship to the next level, I'd always insisted that we should wait. I told her that I was a gentleman, an old-fashioned kind of guy.

Apparently, that was complete bullshit.

Now I realized that I had just never been attracted to Mai. Everything was different with Katara. Her sweetness, her sass, her curves, her warmth…I couldn't get enough. But as much as she turned me on, tonight the desire to satisfy my own needs paled in comparison to my desire to please Katara. Every little moan, or cry, or gasp I wrung from her was a reward in itself. Watching her eyes glaze over with passion, watching her body twist and arch with need beneath me, watching her face as she gave herself to me without abandon, holding nothing back, was downright addictive. Already I was wondering how soon I would be able to watch her go wild for me again. Not soon enough. She would need the rest of the weekend to recover, and then we would be back at school. I wouldn't have any more chances to get her alone, and I would be forced to share her attention all week.

I felt a sudden, powerful surge of possessiveness. Katara was _mine_ now. Mine to talk to, mine to hold, mine to protect. Something had changed within me tonight, irrevocably, in a way I had never anticipated. No one else had ever seen the gleaming expanse of her skin, or sampled the rich taste of her secret places, or been buried so deeply inside her that they were no longer two separate people – only one breath, one heartbeat. No other man had ever touched her like I had, no other man would ever be the first to know her, and now she was bound to me in a way she would never forget, could never escape. And I was bound to her, too – bound to meet her needs, defend her interests, and respect her wishes.

Was this love? The idea of putting someone else's desires before my own was a new one for me. And yet, if Katara asked me, there was nothing I wouldn't give up to make her happy. I felt disorientated, as if the center of my universe had shifted. My priorities revolved around her happiness now, rather than around my own, and I wasn't quite certain how to navigate this new landscape.

I ran a thumb gently down her bare shoulder, and she shifted slightly in her sleep. The feel of her sweat-slick skin on mine, her bare breasts pressed to my chest, the curve of her hip against my side, was more powerfully erotic than my most detailed fantasies. I had to get her dressed, and soon, or my self-control might fracture despite my best efforts.

"Katara, honey, wake up," I murmured, nuzzling her hair. I gave her shoulder a shake and she stretched, her body sliding flush against mine, making me groan in response. "We have to head back soon."

She blinked herself awake and tilted her head to look up at me. A smile lit her face, so radiant that her beauty robbed me of breath. She rose on one elbow to kiss me, her long hair hanging like a curtain around my face. My fingers twitched with the urge to stroke down her spine, slide across her hip, and pluck and play between her legs until she moaned my name again. And again. But I resisted, instead gripping her waist and pushing her slightly away from me.

"We have to get dressed," I insisted, cutting off the kiss and sliding out of her embrace. I stood quickly and gathered up our clothes from where we had thrown them across the room in our earlier abandon. I turned to find her watching me, her gaze running over my naked body in a look of satisfied approval. I laughed and tossed her clothes onto the bed, stepping quickly into my pants before I was too tempted to answer the demand in her eyes. I turned around to give her some privacy and headed into the small bathroom to wash up. When I returned to the bedroom, she was struggling with the zipper on the back of her dress.

"Let me help," I offered. She swept her hair up in her hands and I tugged the zipper up, smoothing the lines of her soft blue dress. She leaned against me, her back against my chest, and I wrapped my arms around her waist, hugging her tightly as I planted a kiss on the nape of her neck.

"I wish tonight could last forever," she whispered.

"I do, too." Everything had been so perfect. This strange feeling coursing between us was as fragile and new as a budding flower, heart wrenching in its beauty, but too delicate to withstand the harsh world. All I could do was hope that it would have time to take root, that there were no storms on the horizon waiting to rip it to shreds. That, just this once, fate would be kind to me, and let me keep the only thing I had ever found that was worth hanging on to.

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Monday at school I was eager to meet Katara in the library at break, to have some time alone with her. But, to my surprise, Azula blocked my exit at the end of class. After completely ignoring me last week, what did she suddenly want from me?

"Get out of my way," I growled. The classroom was empty except for us, Mai lingering in the doorway like some kind of goth guard.

"I have a message from Father."

"I already told you what I think of his messages." I stalked past her and was almost at the door when her words sent a chill through me.

"The message isn't for you, Zuzu. It's for your little bitch."

I whipped around to face Azula again. "Don't ever call her that. Katara's my girlfriend."

She shrugged. "Not for long. Once Father's finished, she'll never speak to you again."

"What are you talking about?"

Azula smiled with anticipation, like a cat about to deliver a killing blow to its prey. "One of Father's friends at the bank holds the mortgage to her family's little inn. Did you know they went deeply in debt to finish their renovation? If the bank decided to review their credit rating, they'd probably call in the debt immediately and foreclose on the property. Katara and her family would lose everything they've been working for. They'd be bankrupt, penniless, homeless."

A sudden sense of calm descended on me. I knew he would do it. He would destroy Katara's family without hesitation. He probably enjoyed the idea of using my weakness – my emotion – against me. "What does he want from me?"

"Only what he's always wanted. For you to play your part. He's been waiting for you to come back and apologize—"

"_Apologize?_"

"—for defying him. Your place is with us, Zuko. It's always been with us. Stop fighting it."

_Damn him._ Would I ever be able to escape his control? My shoulders slumped. "What does he want me to do?"


	21. Chapter 21: Crossroads of Destiny

**Title:** The Taming of the Shrew  
**Author:** setlib  
**Rating:** T-rated for language and sexual content  
**Setting:** Alternate Universe – modern high school, no bending  
**Pairings:** Zuko x Katara  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own the rights to any characters from Avatar: The Last Airbender.

**Summary:** Zuko and Katara are seniors in high school. He teases her, then ignores her. She despises him. But when Zuko's father kicks him out of the house and he has to move in with his hippie Uncle Iroh, he begins to see Katara in a new light. But as the bard warned, "the course of true love never did run smooth."

**Author's Note:** Thanks for waiting patiently while I finished writing this chapter, I think you'll agree it was worth the wait! But, don't blame me for the plot twists. It was The Creators, Mike and Bryan, who in their infinite wisdom decided that poor Zuko had to overcome a few more challenges before he could earn his happy ending.

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**The Taming of the Shrew, Chapter 21: Crossroads of Destiny**

Zuko was late coming to the library at Break, and when he arrived, he was acting kind of strangely. He came over to the table where I sat waiting for him, pulled me up by the hand, and wrapped me in a tight hug. Which wasn't so unusual, except that he didn't let go. He kept holding on to me, his chin on top of my head, folding me into the hard curve of his body.

When he finally loosened his grip, I pulled back enough to look at his face. "Hey, is something wrong?"

One side of his mouth crooked in a wry half-smile. "I just missed you."

"You saw me less than an hour ago."

"The longest hour of my life," he said, leaning down to kiss me quickly. He glanced around the library, which was fairly empty except for the librarian helping a few kids over in the fiction section. He grabbed my hand and pulled me to the back corner, behind the high shelves of magazines and bulky old microfiche reader. He leaned back against a heavy wooden table and pulled me between his legs. It was like he didn't want to stop touching me, like he needed some kind of physical reassurance that I was still here.

"Are you nervous about the big cross country meet this afternoon?"

He frowned. "How did you know about that?"

"Suki was talking about it. Some of the cheerleaders are going to go. It's supposed to be a big deal."

"It's the Regional." Zuko's voice was strangely monotone.

I pushed his shoulder. "Don't act like you're not interested! The winner will get signed to the track team at Yale!"

"You know I haven't gone to cross country since – since my accident."

"Yes, but you've still been running occasionally around your neighborhood." He raised one eyebrow. "Jun told me," I explained. "So, are you going to compete today?"

He hesitated, opened and closed his mouth as if he couldn't decide what to say, then finally nodded his head.

"That's great!" I flung my arms around his neck and hugged him hard. "I'll come cheer you on!"

He pushed me back. "No! Trust me, you don't want to come."

"Don't be an idiot. Of course I want to come. You're my boyfriend!"

"Yes, but – it's not like a football game. You can't even see most of the race, it goes along some back paths in the park. The spectators just stand around waiting at the finish line for an hour. You'd be bored senseless."

"I wouldn't be bored! I would be rooting for you!"

He shook his head. "You know you have to help your grandmother. And do your homework."

I put my hands on my hips. "I'm starting to think that you don't want me there. What, are you embarrassed by me?"

"No! Katara – no." He pulled me against him and tried to kiss me.

I turned my face away so his kiss landed on my ear. I pushed back but he held me tight. I could feel his biceps harden under my hands as he tightened his hold. I leaned away, but he took advantage of my position to nuzzle my neck, kissing a trail from my ear to my collarbone until I felt myself melt in his grasp.

"I know how hard you work, Katara," he murmured. "How hard it is for you to take care of all your responsibilities. I promise, you won't be missing anything. I'll come to see you right away when the meet is over and tell you anything you want to know. Please, consider it a favor to me. I'll owe you."

One of his hands slipped under my shirt to stroke the sensitive nerves at the small of my back, pressing my hips between his legs. His other hand was at the nape of my neck, his long fingers both massaging and restraining, holding me still while he suckled the tender skin along my shoulder. My breath came in short gasps, my brain went fuzzy, and I forgot what we were arguing about – I only knew that I wanted to please him.

"You'll owe me, hmmm?" I asked. "What will you give me?"

He laughed huskily. "Tell me what you want, and you'll have it."

My hands reached around his shoulders and fisted in his short hair, holding his head against me while I shifted position slightly, giving him access to the other side of my neck. "I want more of what we did on our date."

"You want me to take you sailing again?" he mumbled against my neck.

"No!" I squealed, yanking on his hair.

His shoulders began to shake, and I realized he was laughing. "You want to eat more curry samosas?" he whispered in my ear. I smacked him on the back of the head and he pulled back to look at me with a grin on his face.

"You know what I mean!"

"I know exactly what you mean. I just think it's funny you still can't say it." He pulled his hands away and rested them on the table beside him. I immediately felt bereft at the loss of his touch. "I'll make you a deal. I will do anything – absolutely anything – you want. But you have to ask for it first."

I crossed my arms. "You're just trying to get me to say naughty words. And in _the library_ no less!"

"What better place to talk dirty? At least you'll be able to look up any words you don't know."

"It's perverted!"

He shook his head. "It's not perverted to tell someone you think they're beautiful, or that they turn you on. One thing I know for sure is that I want to touch you." His gaze raked my body, lingering where my stance was pulling my thin cotton shirt tight across my chest. "And I will, as soon as you ask me."

I bit my lip, torn between embarrassment and temptation. "I want you to touch me, too," I admitted softly. He raised his hands slowly, and trailed his long fingers across the skin of my arms. His touch was electrifying, but not satisfying. I shifted impatiently and dropped my arms to my sides, leaning toward him. "Touch me – on my chest," I clarified.

His fingers shifted, tracing my collarbones, sliding under the collar of my shirt. I grew frustrated. "Not there!"

"You have to ask me. Nicely."

I blew out an irritated breath. I didn't want to play his game, but my nerve endings were on fire – and damn him, he knew it. "My breasts," I whispered. "Please."

His hands moved instantly to cup the underside of my breasts, his fingers reaching up to massage the sides, to pull and squeeze in a rhythm that left me shamelessly pushing myself further into his hands. Soon, though, even that wasn't enough.

"Zuko, touch me," I begged.

"Where, Katara? You have to tell me where."

"You know – in the middle." His thumbs slid across my breasts and began moving in lazy circles, tracing along the outside of my nipples, but never actually touching them, even though I began to shift impatiently. His teasing was maddening, infuriating. Freeing. I was rapidly losing my shyness, replaced instead by clamoring need.

I looked up, meeting his gaze, shocked by the intensity I saw there. How much was it costing him to hold himself back, to wait for me to find my voice? I felt bold now, seductive, demanding. "You know what I want. Touch me – my nipples – now!"

Instantly his fingers tightened around my nipples and sensation exploded through me. He kissed me hard, swallowing my moan while I clung to his shoulders. I leaned closer while he plucked and twisted, as if he knew exactly how much pressure I could stand, increasing it gradually until my universe constricted, leaving nothing but him at the center.

He broke off the kiss, returning to kiss my neck. "What else do you want, Katara?" he murmured. "What do you want me to do to you tonight?"

My hands slid up his thighs to find his erection swelling insistently against the tight denim of his black jeans. I squeezed and he gasped, his fingers clenching almost painfully on my breasts. I knew what he wanted me to say, but I also knew the words would affect him much more powerfully than they would affect me. We had come such a long way together, from that first morning when he had teased me so mercilessly. I had far more confidence now, and I was ready to tease him for a change.

I moved my lips to his ear, whispering gently. "I want your cock inside me again, Zuko. I want you buried so deep that I can feel your heartbeat. I want you to become part of me." He kissed me then, hard, his teeth scraping my lip as I slid my hand between his legs.

I was so wrapped up in the sensual spell he wove that I completely forgot where we were. I jolted in surprise when the class bell rang, shocked that I had let myself get this carried away, not just at school, but in a corner of the library where anyone could have walked over and seen us. I released my hold on Zuko and stepped back, out of his reach.

"We have to get to class," I panted.

He swallowed heavily, then reached out to snag a magazine off the shelves and hold it over his lap. "You go ahead. I'm going to need a minute or two before I walk anywhere. I'll just stay here and think about, uh –" he glanced down at the copy of _The Economist_ he was holding, "—the growth of capitalism in China right now."

I giggled, enjoying his predicament, especially since I knew I was the one who had brought him to this condition. "That's what you get for trying to make out in the library," I said prudishly as I turned to gather my things. "I am sorry to leave you like this, though."

"You can make it up to me when I come to see you tonight."

I gave him one last smile before I left. "It's a deal."

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I was waiting for the bus home when Suki ran up to me and grabbed my arm, Sokka following behind her. "Where are you going?"

I pointed. "Bus. Home. Duh." Sokka snickered.

Suki rolled her eyes. "I thought you were coming to the big meet afterschool?"

"Zuko said it would be really boring. He wants me to skip it."

"Don't you know anything about boys? Of course he wants you to go, you're his girlfriend. He just wants to make sure that you _want_ to go."

"Wait – what? He wants me to go, so he tells me not to go? That doesn't make sense. I don't think Zuko's that complicated. Besides, you rode the bus today, so you don't have a car."

"A little thing like that won't stop us! We can bum a ride from one of the other cheerleaders."

I looked at Sokka for help. "Surely you're not going?"

"I've been ordered to ride the bus home, get the truck, and meet you there," he grumbled.

Suki hugged him. "Because I'd be ever so grateful. Besides, I don't want Katara to miss the beginning. Just think how happy Zuko'll be when he looks up and sees you there."

I didn't need any more convincing. I was actually really curious to see the race, and I still wasn't entirely sure why Zuko didn't want me to come. I just knew that he started kissing me and pretty soon I was agreeing to anything. "Okay, let's go!"

Suki squealed and grabbed my hand, leaving Sokka sulking at the bus stop and pulling me through the parking lot until she got to a bright yellow SUV and knocked on the window. The door opened and Ty Lee climbed out. I didn't know her personally, but I knew _of_ her – it was hard to miss anyone who wore that much pink every day.

"Oh! I'm so glad you could come with us!" she said and gave me a big hug. I don't know what surprised me more, the spontaneous hug from Ty Lee, or the sight of Toph sitting in her front seat.

"Hey, Katara," Toph said.

"Hi Toph. I didn't know you were interested in cross country. Are you going to be a cheerleader too?"

Toph sent me a dirty look but Ty Lee just laughed. "No, I think she's going to be the bouncer. These meets can get pretty rough. You'd be surprised. Toph volunteered to protect me."

Toph slouched down in her seat, letting her bangs cover her face, but not fast enough to hide a little blush. I thought briefly about teasing her again – but I really didn't want to get punched in the face.

Suki opened the back door, tossed in her backpack and slid across the seat. "Come on, Katara," she said, waving me in.

Ty Lee smiled. "Go ahead. You're dating Zuko, right? I bet he's going to do great!"

Suki snickered from inside the car. "Yeah, he's got really amazing _stamina_, doesn't he, Katara?"

I didn't dignify that with a response, although it did bring back a memory from Saturday night that made me flush with heat. I cleared my throat and looked over at Ty Lee. "Are you sure you don't mind giving me a ride? I thought you were friends with Azula. She _really_ doesn't like me."

"Oh, don't worry about that. Azula doesn't like anyone. But she can't really help it. It's her aura, all red and angry."

"Okaaay." Great, she was a ditsy new age type. But at least this probably wasn't some kind of mean trick thought up by Zuko's evil sister. I thanked her and climbed in.

Ty Lee took off driving like a bat out of hell, nearly mowing down several students just leaving the parking lot. Every time she turned her head, like to talk to Toph, she turned her hands where they rested on the wheel, swerving the car, then overcorrecting, then finally getting back in her lane. No one else seemed to care, though. They were too busy singing along with "Dirty, Naughty, Bitchy Me" on the radio, or shouting at the top of their lungs to talk over the music. I clenched the door handle in a white-knuckled grip and closed my eyes, praying silently until she pulled into the parking lot at the Ranger's Station. As soon as she stopped, I bolted out of the car, not waiting for the rest of them.

Van Damme Beach State Park was near the ocean, not too far away from my family's inn. It was home to a diverse range of natural attractions, from a fern-lined canyon, to a forest of pygmy pine trees only inches tall, plus a swampy bog, river and redwood forest. The reason the race was held here, however, was because of the challenging old logger's trail that forced the runners to go up and down the steep edge of the canyon several times. It was one thing to run around a track in a circle – it was something else entirely to deal with sharp changes in grade while running. It really would be a test of stamina.

One or two school vans had already arrived, and competitors from different schools were registering, attaching their numbers to their shirts, and warming up. I didn't see any of our Bearcats here yet, and I suddenly had an idea.

"Hey, Suki," I said, pulling her away from her gossip session with Ty Lee. "I want to surprise Zuko. They're going to start on the lower path and return on the higher loop, right?" She nodded. "I'm going to start hiking over to the loop, then, so I can cheer him on right at the end."

"That's a great idea!" Suki gave me a hug and then ran off to where the other cheerleaders were congregating.

I grabbed a map at the Ranger's Station and crossed the parking lot, looking for the entrance to the trail. If I had been paying better attention, I might have been able to avoid them, but I was so distracted looking at the map that I didn't realize Azula and Mai were there until I had walked right next to them.

"What are you doing here?" Azula crossed her arms and looked at me like I was a bug that had just had the audacity to get squashed against her windshield.

"I'm here to watch my _boyfriend_."

She snorted. "When are you going to learn? Just because he fucked you, it doesn't mean you're his girlfriend." She came close to me, smiling coldly, and whispered her venom in my ear. "It just means you're easy."

Azula and Mai walked away, leaving me frozen behind them. I couldn't think of any kind of witty retort, because a small voice inside me whispered that they might be right. Was I easy? I had never really thought of it that way – I had been so enraptured by Zuko that I had followed my instincts, letting sensation be my guide. But when I thought back over my actions, I realized there was another way to interpret them. After all, I had gone to Zuko's room that first day, climbed brazenly into bed with him, woke him with a kiss. He hadn't initiated any intimacy on the boat; I had straddled him, started to strip, then demanded that he take me. Even today in the library, I had ordered him to touch me, and had practically given him a hand job before the bell rang. All this, and we'd only been dating a week or two. I blushed, mortified. My behavior seemed so tawdry when it was described that way. What would my father think?

I shook my head, trying to clear out my doubts. Surely Zuko wasn't with me because I was – I could barely say it, even in my head – _easy_. He genuinely cared about me. He wasn't like his sister at all. He was a good person. He had changed.

I took off down the trail at a jog, eager to put his sister and her vicious jabs behind me. I felt calmer when I got under the trees, the murmur of the crowd replaced by the chirping of birds. I saw a flat tree stump a little way off the path and hiked up to it, settling into a position that gave me a clear view through some overhanging branches. One trail split into two at this spot, a kind of crossroads, and I wasn't sure which direction the runners would take. The easy path stayed fairly flat, while the other went up a formidable incline. I shifted in an attempt get comfortable. I would probably be waiting here about an hour, so I tried to calm my mind, tried to push away the insecurities that Azula had stoked. Tried, but failed. Her words, and my actions, haunted me. I needed to be with Zuko again, needed to see the reassurance in his gaze, hear the genuine affection in his voice, before I would truly feel better.

I had almost drifted to sleep when I finally heard a noise in the distance. A steady pounding of feet, haggard breathing, getting louder. I stood, leaning on a tree, and my heart leapt when I saw Zuko, sweating heavily, head down, running up the incline. Aang was right beside him, running on the outside of the trail near the edge of the canyon, also looking exhausted. They must have been far ahead of the other contestants because I couldn't see anyone behind them.

I was just about to call out when Zuko veered sharply to his left, crowding Aang against the side of the cliff. Aang turned toward him, a look of surprise on his face as Zuko grabbed him roughly by the shoulder. Then pushed.

Aang seemed to freeze for a moment on the edge, arms pinwheeling, before he lost his balance and disappeared over the side in a cloud of dust. My mouth hung open, my brain couldn't function, as Zuko continued forward, not even stopping to look behind him. I stumbled down to the trail and emerged right in front of him. He slid to a stop.

"What are you doing here?" he growled, panting. "I told you not to come."

I shook my head, unable to believe what was happening. "Zuko, what did you do? You have to get help! Aang could be hurt!"

He stalked toward me and grabbed me by the neck. I saw the fury in his eyes and felt a bolt of sheer terror shoot through me. I had always known he was bigger and stronger than I was, it was one of the things that had turned me on when we were together. But I had never imagined that he might turn that strength against me. I gasped and pulled desperately at his hands. "Let me go! Now! Or I'll call the police!" It was an empty threat, since I didn't even have a cell phone, and he knew it. He pulled me closer until my face was right under his, in an obscene parody of a lovers' embrace. His hot breath assaulted me as I realized that I was in no position to threaten him.

"My father controls the mortgage for your inn. One phone call, and your family will lose everything." His voice was low, and savage, and it suddenly felt like there was a stranger in front of me. Had I ever really known him at all? "Keep your fucking mouth shut, Katara, or I promise you, you will regret it."

He thrust me aside and continued running, forgoing the easy path to struggle up the steeper one, not even looking behind him. The whole encounter had lasted mere seconds, and while I stood frozen in shock, he quickly rounded the bend ahead of me and was out of sight. I snapped out of my daze when I heard a moan and raced to the side of the trail. I gasped when I saw Aang lying about twenty feet down the cliff, curled up protectively in the fetal position.

"Aang! Are you okay?" I called. There was no answer. "Hold on!" I carefully navigated the crumbling gravel canyon wall, clinging to bushes and rocks for balance until I reached him.

I set a tentative hand on his shoulder. He was trembling, and I fought back panic. What had I learned in those Red Cross classes? Stabilize the patient, prevent further injury, check for spinal cord or head damage.

"Aang, where does it hurt?"

"My chest," he groaned, his hands clenching in his shirt. "I can't catch my breath." Could his ribs be broken? There were small cuts and smears of blood across his body, but as I ran my fingers along his arms and legs, I couldn't find any breakages. His head and spine seemed miraculously undamaged. I couldn't see the trail from our position, but I could hear the pounding as runners approached us.

"Okay, you lie still, I'll get help. The rangers will bring a backboard and pull you up."

He grunted and started to push himself into a sitting position. "I don't need anyone pulling me up."

I held my hands out in front of him. "No, no, no, no, NO! Don't move! You'll hurt yourself!"

He ignored me, shifting to his feet, standing with a gasp. "It's just my ribs."

"Why are men such idiots!" I shouted to the sky. "Please, let me call for help!"

He tried to grin, although it looked more like a grimace. "Just help me climb back up, Katara. Stop overreacting."

I resisted the urge to smack him, considering the fact that he was currently injured, and settled for cursing under my breath instead. I wrapped my arm around him carefully and we started to climb the canyon wall. At one point he paused, leaning heavily against me, and laughed raggedly. "If I'd known it would get you to hug me like this, I would have broken my ribs months ago."

Despite the situation, I blushed. Aang's crush on me had been painfully obvious, but I'd always felt more of a maternal affection for the naïve young student, not any kind of physical desire. Although, considering the horrible decisions I'd made recently with desire clouding my judgment, perhaps I shouldn't have been so quick to dismiss his interest.

"Are you going to press charges?" I asked tentatively. Zuko's threats were still fresh in my mind, my new fear of him still tingling along my nerves. My sense of justice called out for turning him in immediately, both for this and for his probable involvement in the attack on Stefan. But I believed him when he had threatened to destroy my family. He could do it. The question was, what was I willing to do to protect them?

"I have to talk to my parents," Aang said as we climbed carefully up the next rock. "You know they're nonviolent. They've taught me not to hang on to hatred and grudges. Usually karma does a good job of punishing the wicked."

"Maybe, but that doesn't mean you should let people get away with committing crimes!" I didn't know if I was trying to convince him, or myself.

He paused, sitting down to catch his breath, and looked out over the canyon. "The thing is," he said after a moment, "I really thought Zuko and I could have been friends. This just isn't like him. I think something else is going on."

"You've seen how awful his family is. I thought he was different. I thought he had changed. But now I know I was wrong."

Aang shook his head. "You don't know that yet."

"I think you're being too generous," I argued. "But since you're the injured party here, I'll go along with whatever you think is right."

I held onto him again and we kept climbing. The sound of the runners had faded into the distance by the time we made it back to the trail. With my arm around Aang as he limped forward, it took us almost an hour to walk back to the parking lot. It was nearly empty, most of the contestants having finished and gone. Ty Lee and Toph had left, along with Zuko and his sister. Suki and Sokka were still there, pacing anxiously next to Aang's parents and our coach.

"What happened?" Sokka shouted as he charged toward us.

"I fell," Aang said, cutting me off before I had to try to decide how to explain.

Everyone descended on Aang, cleaning him up, while Suki gave me a hug. I clung to her, close to tears. "I need to go home," I whispered. She nodded and bundled me into our white truck, Sokka driving. After I ignored their initial attempts to find out what happened, they left me in silence. I went straight to my room when we got home, slamming my door behind me and curling up on my bed.

Finally alone, the thoughts that I had tried so hard to push away came crowding into my head. Zuko had never really changed. The kind, attentive boyfriend I'd known the past few weeks had only existed in my head, a combination of my wishful thinking and a superlative acting job. And what was so humiliating was the fact that he hadn't forced me into anything. No, he had seduced me, trained me to give in to my desire until I had thrown myself at him, begged him to have his way with me.

I thought about our night on the boat, and hot tears of shame filled my eyes. I had let him see me naked – no, not let him, encouraged him. I had felt so beautiful, so powerful, when I saw the desire in his eyes as his gaze slid over my nude body. His clever fingers had stroked me everywhere, followed by his wicked mouth. Had he been laughing at me that night, mocking my innocence even as he wrung moans from me with his touch?

I felt a moment of gratitude that he had used a condom every time, at least sparing me the humiliation of worrying about pregnancy. Although even that was not necessarily chivalrous – perhaps he didn't want the shame of fathering a bastard child on an embarrassment like me. But the memory of him spreading my legs wide, looming over me, riding me hard until I called out his name, made me twist uncomfortably on my bed. My hand came across something cold and smooth under my pillow and I pulled out the black silk handkerchief he had given me at Homecoming. I couldn't resist holding it to my nose, breathing in his scent. Even now, even knowing how I was used, I was unable to quell the desire that burst through me.

How thoroughly had he corrupted me? When had his plan started? That first day, when he goaded me into talking dirty to him? Had that been his game all along, to turn prudish little Katara into his personal whore? I thought again about this morning in the library and groaned. How satisfied he must have felt when I obeyed his every command, proving that my transformation was complete.

After crying myself hoarse, until my eyes burned and my stomach cramped, I fell into a fitful sleep. But even my dreams betrayed me. I spent the night tortured by images of Zuko holding me down, his grip painful, his eyes burning red, flames erupting from his mouth like a demon, all the while I writhed with desire beneath him, yearned for his touch, begged him not to leave me. How could I face him tomorrow? How could I ever face him again?


	22. Chapter 22: Day of Black Son

**Title:** The Taming of the Shrew  
**Author:** setlib  
**Rating:** T-rated for language and sexual content  
**Setting:** Alternate Universe – modern high school, no bending  
**Pairings:** Zuko x Katara  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own the rights to any characters from Avatar: The Last Airbender.

**Summary:** Zuko and Katara are seniors in high school. He teases her, then ignores her. She despises him. But when Zuko's father kicks him out of the house and he has to move in with his hippie Uncle Iroh, he begins to see Katara in a new light. But as the bard warned, "the course of true love never did run smooth."

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**The Taming of the Shrew, Chapter 22: Day of Black Son**

My homecoming was surreal. Azula was in high spirits as she drove me back to our estate. And why wouldn't she be? After all, she had accomplished the task Father had given her. She had dragged her errant brother back to the fold. She had applied just the right amount of pressure to make sure I obeyed. Like a good dog.

Father was waiting for us in the breakfast room. Dark lilies filled a vase on the table in a violent explosion of color. Champagne chilled in a heavy crystal bucket. There was a celebratory feel for the return of the prodigal son. Or perhaps I was the triumphant warrior, finally coming home after defeating the enemy. I scrambled for the right mask to present to Father – arrogant grin, confident tilt of my chin, one eyebrow raised in expectation. The sick feeling in the pit of my stomach was not allowed to show on my face.

"Zuko! Well done!" Father raised a glass of champagne in my honor. Zhao leaned against the sideboard cabinet on the far wall, and it took all my self control to meet his gaze, to nod calmly, to not betray the memory of pain that crashed through my skull when I saw him. To not leap across the room and slam my fist into his smug face.

I unlocked my throat, forced myself to breath, and walked forward smoothly to pluck a glass off the table. "The first thing I want to do is burn these damn clothes. They reek of shiftless degenerates." This earned a hearty laugh from the room.

"I don't know how you could stand living with Uncle Iroh and that woman even one day," Azula drawled, reaching for her own glass.

"It was the longest two weeks of my life." That was true, although not for the reasons I'm sure my sister imagined. I had learned more about love and loyalty in those two weeks that I had in all the years with my own family.

Azula turned to look at me, her gaze raking my damaged left cheek like invisible claws, leaving a trail of phantom pain behind. "We'll have to get that face of yours fixed now."

Father held up his hand. "Not so fast. My P.R. team ran his picture by some focus groups. Strangely, Zuko's new 'look' has made him more popular with women ages 17 through 54."

"You discussed my scar with your _media consultants?_" I couldn't keep the incredulity from my voice. Shock made me sloppy.

"Apparently it makes you look more 'vulnerable.' So we'll wait a bit on the plastic surgery. Perhaps after the election." He shrugged and took another swallow of champagne. As I watched him, I imagined it clearly in my mind – thrusting my hand forward, shattering the crystal flute, driving the heavy shards through the roof of his mouth into his brain. The look of shock on his face as blood trickled from his eyes, just before he collapsed forward, landing heavily onto the delicate lace tablecloth. My right hand trembled and I slid it into my pocket, hiding my tension from the group, but also restraining myself from giving in to temptation.

What would a good little prodigal son say now? I tried to rouse my sluggish wits. "The signing ceremony will be tomorrow afternoon at school. Someone from Stanford is supposed to come with the athletic contract."

Father nodded. "A friend of mine will bring it. He's based in China now, but he graduated from Stanford just a few years ahead of me. He was a track star, too." Father put a hand on my shoulder. "You're on the right path now to follow in his footsteps. He's a ruthless businessman and a formidable ally. It is an honor to have a great man like Yon Rha present at your signing."

The name stabbed at me like a blade made of ice, sending a chill down my spine. Just when I thought Katara couldn't possibly hate me more than she already does. Now I would be publicly honored – by her mother's murderer. I took a deep breath. I couldn't let myself get distracted. I would have plenty of time for recriminations later. A lifetime, in fact. "The NBC affiliate is going to broadcast the ceremony on the twelve-o-clock news. Would you like to come?"

A broad smile lit his face. "I'll definitely be there. I want everyone to know how proud I am of my son."

Of course he would come – now that he knew there would be cameras there. My scar throbbed, my left fist clenched dangerously around my glass. But the easy smile that crept across my face was the most dangerous thing of all. "Thank you, Father. The only thing I ever wanted was to please you."

He nodded. "You always had the strength. You just lacked the backbone to do the dirty work that is necessary for success."

My hand shifted inside my pocket. "Is that why it wasn't enough for me to just win the race – you also wanted me to hurt Aang?"

"I couldn't allow you to return home until you had proven your willingness to destroy your competition. I had already coddled you too much, having Zhao eliminate your other rivals."

"You mean when he hit Gary with his car, and broke Stefan's knee on Halloween?"

Zhao laughed. "You wanna make an omelet, you gotta crack a few eggs."

"That's right. Do you think I became as successful as I am by following all the rules?" Father snorted. "When competitors got in my way, I cleared them out. Remember that warehouse fire at MicroTech a few years ago?"

I did. Several guards had died, and firefighters had been injured, when it burned out of control. The choking black smoke darkened the air over San Jose for weeks, tangling the company in a snare of environmental and negligence lawsuits. It had declared bankruptcy soon after. "Are you saying that you set that fire?"

"It was necessary. Once they were gone, I was able to secure the buyout that made all this possible." He waved one hand to indicate their luxurious estate. "And now you've proven that you have the steel spine to carry on my legacy."

"Father!" Azula's voice was shrill as she slammed her glass to the table. "You said _I_ would inherit your holdings! You said I was the only one clever enough to manage things!"

He grinned, then, with genuine amusement. I imagine that seeing Azula and me pitted against each other was his idea of family bonding. "It's about time you had some real competition from your brother. You need to push yourself to be the best."

She hissed, glaring at me, and stormed out of the room. I joined Father and Zhao in their smug laughter, then set down my glass. "I'm going to see if I can wash off the stink of Iroh's place. I'll see you at dinner." Father nodded, excusing me, and I walked upstairs to my bedroom.

I shut the door behind me and leaned back against it, expelling my breath slowly. I took in the huge expanse of my room, the bare walls and spartan furniture, and wondered how it could look so foreign. The room hadn't changed at all in the past two weeks, but I had changed. I had grown used to Iroh's booming voice, and Katara's cluttered space, and now my old room projected only one overwhelming emotion: loneliness. How had I never before realized how lonely I was? How could such a short time have altered the very foundation of my soul, so that I barely recognized my old self?

I looked at the phone, and my hand twitched with the urge to pick it up and call Katara. But of course it was no use begging her forgiveness, not now. I had known immediately this morning, when Azula made her demands, that I had very little chance of emerging from this with our relationship intact. I had tried to keep Katara away from the race, thinking it might give me extra time to explain things to her, but naturally luck had deserted me. When I made my decision, I did it to protect Katara. To make myself the kind of man who might one day be worthy of her. But I knew that I might lose her in the process. I accepted that risk. As long as she was safe, I would accept my loneliness with a grateful heart, and wish for nothing else but her happiness.

I sighed, and pushed myself away from the door. There was no use wallowing in self-pity. I had a lot of work to do before the ceremony tomorrow. If I was going to pull this off, I had better get busy.


	23. Chapter 23: Avoidance

**Title:** The Taming of the Shrew  
**Author:** setlib  
**Rating:** T-rated for language and sexual content  
**Setting:** Alternate Universe – modern high school, no bending  
**Pairings:** Zuko x Katara  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own the rights to any characters from Avatar: The Last Airbender.

**Summary:** Zuko and Katara are seniors in high school. He teases her, then ignores her. She despises him. But when Zuko's father kicks him out of the house and he has to move in with his hippie Uncle Iroh, he begins to see Katara in a new light. But as the bard warned, "the course of true love never did run smooth."

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**The Taming of the Shrew, Chapter 23: Avoidance**

My stomach felt like it was full of lead when I finally dragged myself to the breakfast table the next morning. My crying jag and lack of sleep last night left me with a pounding headache. I forced myself to chew my cereal while I tuned out Dad and Sokka talking sports. Suddenly they caught my attention when they began talking about the track meet yesterday.

"Suki said there's going to be an assembly at school today. Zuko won some kind of big sports scholarship," Sokka mumbled around a mouthful of toast.

Dad looked over at me with a happy smile. "That's great news! You must be proud of your boyfriend."

My stomach twisted in protest and I clamped a hand over my mouth.

"What's wrong, honey?"

I shook my head, unable to answer my father. I pushed back from the table, stumbling down the hall to the bathroom in barely enough time to lose what little breakfast I'd eaten into the toilet.

I heard Sokka yelling "Gross!" from the kitchen, but Dad followed me, rubbing a hand over my back. "Are you okay?"

I flushed, pulled myself to the sink and washed out my mouth. There was no way I was going to tell him about Zuko's threat to foreclose on the inn. I could hardly believe it myself. But I couldn't go to school – couldn't face Zuko at all, let alone be forced to attend an assembly in his honor. "It's probably just a twenty-four hour bug or something. I'm going to stay home today, okay?"

"Of course! Go back to bed. You'll feel better after a good, long nap." He gave me a warm smile and a gentle hug.

Tears sprang to my eyes again and I wanted to bury my head against his shoulder, tell him all my problems and have him make everything better, like he did when I was a child. But nothing was that simple anymore. "Okay, thanks." I paused at the door to my room and looked back at him over my shoulder. "I love you, Daddy."

He looked surprised. "I love you too, Kit-Kat."

I closed the door gently behind me, muffling the sounds of Sokka tromping around the house getting ready for school. I collapsed back onto my bed but of course, even though I was exhausted, I couldn't sleep. I didn't want to read, or listen to music, or watch television. I didn't even want to bake – and I had never been _that_ depressed before.

I didn't like feeling so dirty, so used, so humiliated. It wasn't right. I hadn't done anything wrong. Instead of beating myself up about how easily I had been seduced, or wallowing in my shame, I needed to focus on the facts.

Fact one: Zuko was a total asshole.

Fact two: He lied to me, then threatened me.

Fact three: He attacked Aang.

Everything was Zuko's fault. He had hurt people, and I couldn't live myself if I just let him get away with it. The twisting in my stomach changed, altered from shame to anger. If he thought his family and his money would protect him from justice, he was wrong. And I knew just how to get back at him where it would hurt.

I sat up, invigorated with a new sense of purpose, and pulled on my boots. I peeked out of my room to find the house was empty – Sokka off to school and Dad probably setting out the continental breakfast at the inn. I grabbed a bag of sugar from the kitchen, my purse and car keys and headed out to the truck.

Twenty minutes later I pulled into the parking lot at the harbor. I grabbed the toolbox from the back of the truck, stuck the bag of sugar under my other arm, and held my breath as I snuck past the office. Luckily the front desk was empty and no one else was at the harbor working on their boat at this time on a weekday morning. _Good_, I thought. _No witnesses_.

I climbed aboard Zuko's sleek black yacht and dropped my supplies on the deck. The little table and benches that had looked so romantic in the candlelight on our date seemed normal, almost plain now. I felt uncertain for a moment – this certainly didn't look like an evil place. But then I deliberately made myself remember the way he had laughed with me that night, and cuddled me, and fed me bits of dessert, and my anger flooded back. It had all been an act, and I had fallen for it, hook, line and sinker.

I popped open my toolbox, pulled out a utility knife, and thrust it through the black vinyl seat. The sides split apart, white stuffing catching on my blade like the fluffy head of a dandelion. I cut an ugly X in each seat, then dug my blade into the wood top of the table. I needed both of my hands to push it down and struggled to carve my message without chopping my thumb off in the process. Why did this sort of thing look so much easier in the movies? But after a few minutes of effort I had managed to leave Zuko a little message: _Hell hath no fury_. He had taken something priceless away from me: not just my virginity, but also my pride, and my heart. His precious boat was a small price to pay in return.

Already panting with exertion, I looked around for something else I could damage quickly and easily. I pulled out my hammer, smashing it into the window of the cabin. The sharp crack startled me as shards of glass rained down around my feet. I glanced around guiltily and didn't see anyone, but I decided to take my toolbox down into the cabin just to be safe.

Just like a cook needed the right utensils to create a perfect dish, a good vandal needed a wide variety of implements at her disposal. I traded the hammer for the heaviest wrench I could find in my toolbox and, holding it like a bat, took a step back and swung it hard into the wooden cabinets lining the walls. Grunting with effort I swung again and again, pouring out all my frustration, my fear, my anger into the heavy blows. When my hands were stinging and the muscles in my arms burning, I stepped back to survey my handiwork.

Barely noticeable.

Apparently I was the most incompetent vandal in history. All that effort had amounted to nothing more than a few little scratches and dents. What I wouldn't give for a can of spray paint, but I hadn't really planned far enough in advance. Instead I dug a long flathead screwdriver out of my toolbox and went into the bedroom, envisioning myself stabbing it into the mattress, spreading stuffing across the room, shredding the sheets. But as I stood at the foot of the bed, memories of my night with Zuko came flooding back to me. He had been so…gentle. Respectful. Kind. I couldn't think of a single moment when he had been arrogant or mocking. He had complimented me, worshipped me, answered my demands with a humble gratitude.

My grip loosened and the screwdriver fell to the floor. What the hell was I doing cutting up Zuko's boat like some kind of demented reject from the Jerry Springer Show? This wasn't right. Maybe he had seduced me, had lured me into doing things I would later regret. But I couldn't blame him for my bad behavior right now. My actions this morning were entirely my fault, a result of my hot temper, my impulsiveness. But this wasn't going to solve anything!

I groaned and packed up my toolbox, cringing as I stepped over the glass from the broken window. I gathered up the bag of sugar, glancing wistfully at the gas tank. Zuko had no idea how lucky he was that my conscience woke up when it did. Five pounds of sugar might have screwed up his engine for good.

I climbed off the boat and loaded my stuff back into the truck. I sat at the wheel for a moment, trying to decide what to do next. Vandalizing Zuko's boat had been stupid. I needed to start behaving like an adult. Here I was moaning about how I'd been treated, when poor Aang had his ribs broken. Zuko had committed a crime, and he needed to be brought to justice. I had to convince Aang to press charges. Even if Zuko followed through on his threat to foreclose on the inn, I couldn't let that stop me. Reporting him to the police was the only intelligent, responsible thing to do.

I revved the engine and headed out of the parking lot. I flipped open my phone and called Aang, feeling slightly guilty that I hadn't called to check on him earlier.

"Yeah?" Aang's voice sounded muffled on my cell phone.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

I heard a groan on the other end of the call. "I'll be all right, but they insisted on keeping me in the hospital overnight. Something about tests and lungs and stuff like that."

"I'll be right there! Don't go anywhere!"

He laughed. "I can't go anywhere – I'm kinda stuck. But a visit would be great. It's soooo boring here."

"Okay, see you soon."

I headed toward the Ukiah Valley Medical Center off highway 101. In less than twenty minutes I had arrived and parked, and was heading up to Aang's room. The door was wide open, so I poked my head in.

"Are you up for visitors?" I asked.

Aang had been lying in one of those big hospital beds, his back propped against some pillows while he watched the T.V. hanging up in the corner of the room. His eyes lit up, a big grin splitting his face when he saw me. "Yes! Come in, please!"

I shut the door behind me and walked over to his side, noting that he was shirtless with a strange tube taped to his chest, trailing over the side of the bedrail to some kind of canister. "So, what's the damage report?"

He grimaced. "Not much they can do for my ribs except let them heal up. But apparently one of the ribs punctured my lung, so this contraption," he waved at the tube, "is supposed to get the air out."

"How long do you have to stay hooked up to that thing?"

"I don't know, I guess a day or two until everything's healing properly."

"Man, that sucks." I leaned against the side of the bed and debated silently how to get to the point of my visit. "What did you tell your parents?"

"This morning I told them someone bumped into me, and that's why I fell."

"You didn't tell them who it was?" He shook his head. "Why not?"

Aang sighed and picked at some invisible lint on his blanket. "I feel like, in a way, it was my fault."

"What?"

"You know, I've always been taught that 'desire is the cause of all suffering.' But I let myself get so competitive with Zuko. I really wanted to beat him. Not because I cared about winning the race, but because I was jealous. He had something I desired."

He looked up at me then with big puppy-dog eyes and I gulped. "Aang, I'm sorry, but—"

I was spared from having to further crush him when the door opened and a middle-aged Asian couple walked in carrying a few paper bags. The woman was dressed normally but the man had to be Aang's father, he was dressed in the orange robes of a Buddhist monk. Although I thought monks were supposed to be celibate? Who knows, maybe Buddhists were different?

"You must be one of Aang's friends from school," his mother said, smiling and reaching out to pat my shoulder.

"Yes ma'am, it's nice to meet you. I'm glad Aang is recovering well."

"He has a bright spirit," his father said, nodding his bald head. "It shines in even the darkest circumstance."

Okaaay…maybe this guy should get together with Iroh. The two of them might have a lot to talk about.

"Would you stay and eat lunch with us, my dear?" His mom reached into the bags and pulled out a series of Tupperware containers with what looked like rice and veggie Korma.

"The hospital doesn't have vegan food, so Mom brought some from home," Aang explained.

"If you have enough, that would be great." I helped her pull the rest of the food, including fruit salad and Naan bread, out of the bag along with a stack of paper plates and began preparing lunch for everyone.

"Look, kids, it's your school!" his mom said suddenly, grabbing the remote and turning up the volume.

A newscaster stood outside of our school, his perfectly mussed hair and carefully rumpled oxford shirt an obvious attempt to look cool as he filed his report. "A local kid has earned the top spot in the state track competition, and ivy league school Stanford has noticed. We're here at Four Nations High School to honor his achievement and the sports scholarship that goes along with it. Join us after the break for this upcoming segment in our continuing series, 'What's _right_ with kids these days.' Back to you, Meredith."

I glanced over at Aang, ignoring his parents' excitement. He looked uncomfortable, and I thought this might be the perfect opportunity to convince him to press charges against Zuko. If we watched him receive an award on the news, both of us knowing he had cheated, surely between the two of us we could find the courage to tell the truth.

"Miss Katara, will you stay and watch the ceremony with us?" Aang's mom asked.

I smiled grimly. "I wouldn't miss it."


	24. Chapter 24: Revelation

**Title:** The Taming of the Shrew  
**Author:** setlib  
**Rating:** T-rated for language and sexual content  
**Setting:** Alternate Universe – modern high school, no bending  
**Pairings:** Zuko x Katara  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own the rights to any characters from Avatar: The Last Airbender.

**Summary:** Zuko and Katara are seniors in high school. He teases her, then ignores her. She despises him. But when Zuko's father kicks him out of the house and he has to move in with his hippie Uncle Iroh, he begins to see Katara in a new light. But as the bard warned, "the course of true love never did run smooth."

o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o

**The Taming of the Shrew, Chapter 24: Revelation**

A line of sweat trickled down my back under my black Oxford shirt. My right fist was clenched with tension, but I kept my hand deep within the pocket of my trousers so no one would see. It was taking a tremendous amount of mental discipline to keep from looking nervous. To stay relaxed, and accept congratulations from the other students. I was selfishly relieved that Katara had stayed home today, even though the reason was probably that she was sick with disgust. But I knew I wouldn't be able to face her fury right now and maintain this calm façade.

When it was finally time for the assembly to start, I ignored the TV cameras, the reporters and other visitors lingering in the back of the theater. My only concern was for my father – why wasn't he here yet? Was he running late? Had he actually forgotten? I sat down in my regular assembly seat, resisting the urge to keep checking the doors in the back. If he didn't show up, this entire ordeal would be for nothing.

Principal Roku was at the podium onstage, finishing announcements and other business, but before I knew it he was calling my name. A wave of polite applause crested through the audience as I stood and walked up the stairs to shake the Principal's hand. He waved me over to a table already set up on the stage, a black cloth covering it with a large tabletop microphone in the middle, three chairs waiting behind it. I sat in the middle one, painfully aware of the two empty seats on either side of me, as the Principal cleared his throat awkwardly.

Suddenly the doors slammed open in the back and Father breezed through, a wide movie-star smile gracing his handsome face. The students began to applaud again – he'd been an admired figure in business even before he started his gubernatorial run – and he had the audacity to wave as he strode down the aisle. For once, though, his arrogance didn't bother me; I was too relieved that he had actually kept his word and made an appearance. Zhao and another man who I assumed was Yon Rha followed behind him until he came to the stairs leading to the stage. Zhao stayed at the bottom while Father sprang up the steps to shake the Principal's hand, Yon Rha following behind him.

Without even glancing at me, Father turned to face the students in the audience. He spread his arms wide, waiting until the applause had died down. "Let's get this party started!" he shouted, and the crowd roared again in approval.

Finally he came to my side to rest his hand on my shoulder in a classic photo op that reeked of paternal pride, then took a seat at my left. Yon Rha approached me on the right and I stood slightly to shake his hand before he pulled a roll of papers out of his jacket and spread them on the table.

Yon Rha sat and leaned forward to speak into the microphone. "I'm proud to represent my alma mater, Stanford University, today in recognizing the accomplishments of an incredibly gifted young man. We are pleased to offer him a full scholarship to Stanford University, as well as a guaranteed spot on our highly competitive track team. Zuko Fujiwara has distinguished himself, not just as a model student, but as a model athlete, and a model citizen."

The irony of that statement was not lost on me. However, no one in the audience seemed to notice my discomfort. Most of the students just looked bored, and I didn't blame them. However, I thought as I looked at the red lights of the television cameras, things were about to get a lot more interesting.

Father reached forward and grabbed the microphone, pulling it closer and angling it toward him. "Every father longs for the moment when all the hard work he put into raising his children pays off; when those children finally learn how to uphold the family name with honor. For me, that moment has finally arrived."

Yon Rha shifted on my right, probably to begin the actual signing of the contract, but I interrupted him by standing quickly to address the assembly myself. "You're right, Father. The moment has arrived for me to do the right thing, and maybe restore some of the honor to our family." I reached into my pocket and pulled out a slender silver device – a digital voice recorder.

"What do you think you're doing? Quit playing around!" Father snapped in irritation before remembering his audience and pasting the smile back onto his face.

"I'm here to tell the truth. I'm not taking orders from you anymore." I held the recorder up to the microphone and clicked _play_.

Father froze, the look of disbelief on his face almost comical as his recorded voice was relayed through the auditorium, boasting about ordering the attacks on Gary and Stefan, admitting to the arson of a rival company. In a mere twenty seconds, his own words destroyed the last twenty years he spent building his career. By the time Zhao began to charge up the stairs and Father reached forward to yank the recorder from my hand, it was too late. Everyone had heard his confession.

He smashed the recorder to the floor, sending pieces of metal skittering across the stage. I smiled grimly. "It's no use. I downloaded the recording last night and emailed copies to the news stations and the police. There's no way for you to destroy the evidence."

I heard Principal Roku scuffling with Zhao behind me, heard the sea of voices in the auditorium rise from a whisper to a storm, saw figures moving down the aisles in my peripheral vision, but my gaze never left Father's face. Shock had been replaced by fury.

"Do you have any idea what you've done? You've ruined my reputation! You've destroyed our family name!"

My voice was cold and hard. "No, _you_ destroyed it. I should have stopped you a long time ago, but I was blind. For so long, all I wanted was you to love me, to accept me. I thought it was my honor that I wanted but really, I was just trying to please you. You, my father, who broke my jaw when I refused to obey you!"

"It was to teach you respect!" he shouted.

"It was cruel!" I shouted back. "And it was wrong." Behind him I could see the campus police officers climb the stage. "Now it's time for you to answer for your actions."

A wild violence crossed his face as the officers approached him and for a moment I thought there might be some kind of fight onstage. In a way, I almost longed for it, for the pure visceral pleasure of slamming my fist into Father's face. But he was always at his best under pressure, and I watched with reluctant admiration as he reigned in his fury, smoothed his shirt, buttoned his jacket, and nodded to the police officers with seeming calmness.

"None of this is admissible in court," he said coolly. "I have the best lawyers in the state. I'll be out of jail by dinner."

I nodded. "Maybe. But you'll never be governor now. _Never_. And if you even think about touching me, or Aang, or Katara or her family, you'll be convicted for sure."

His façade cracked as his jaw dropped in shock. "You mean you did this – betrayed me, betrayed your family – for a _girl_?"

"I did it for _love_," I corrected him, "which is something you could never understand."

The officers pulled his hands behind his back and snapped the handcuffs with a loud, satisfying click. They began reciting his Miranda rights, and I turned my back on him, scanning the crowd. The sea of faces swelled and swayed but I ignored the audience, moving backstage with a growing sense of unease and whipping aside the curtains. It was no use.

Yon Rha had disappeared.


	25. Chapter 25: Temple

**Title:** The Taming of the Shrew  
**Author:** setlib  
**Rating:** T-rated for language and sexual content  
**Setting:** Alternate Universe – modern high school, no bending  
**Pairings:** Zuko x Katara  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own the rights to any characters from Avatar: The Last Airbender.

**Summary:** Zuko and Katara are seniors in high school. He teases her, then ignores her. She despises him. But when Zuko's father kicks him out of the house and he has to move in with his hippie Uncle Iroh, he begins to see Katara in a new light. But as the bard warned, "the course of true love never did run smooth."

o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o

**The Taming of the Shrew, Chapter 25: Temple**

Aang's mother clicked the remote, shutting off the television and quieting the buzz of voices from our school auditorium. The hospital room was silent as we all tried to absorb what we had just seen.

"Well, I guess that wins the award for the strangest assembly ever," Aang finally said with a strained laugh.

His father just shook his head. "How fully has the lust for power corrupted that man? What a morally bankrupt life he must lead. I feel sorry for his son."

"Sorry?" I turned to face him. "Mr. Gyatso, remember that Zuko was the one who attacked Aang. He doesn't deserve your pity."

"He was forced to do it, Katara, don't you understand?" Aang protested.

"What I understand is that he had a choice. He could have stood up to his father _before_ he hurt you. Now it's too late."

"It's never too late," Aang's father insisted. His voice was kind, but firm. "He can atone for the harm he inflicted through righteous actions. A person can always balance his karma if he just keeps trying."

"And one thing we know about Zuko – he doesn't give up. Right?" Aang smiled.

My scowl deepened. "What – so he supposedly has seen the light, and now we're all supposed to trust him again?"

"Zuko knew his father was wrong, and he went back to protect you," Aang said.

The memory of the pain he'd put me through was too fresh. My voice rose in frustration. "He betrayed me!"

"He loves you!" Aang shouted back. Everyone in the room froze in surprise at his outburst. Aang's mother bustled over to him protectively as he leaned back on his pillows, cradling his ribs. "I'm sorry, Katara, but love is too precious to throw away. I know if I had – someone – who loved me, I would do anything for her. Absolutely anything." His voice dwindled to a whisper, and for some strange reason I felt tears welling in my eyes.

"I'm sorry, Aang." I didn't know why I was apologizing, exactly, but he gave me a sad smile in return.

"Come with us, my dear," Mr. Gyatso said, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. "Follow us up to the temple and clear your thoughts."

I nodded in agreement, then slunk off to the waiting room while Aang's family settled all the paperwork to discharge him from the hospital. I pulled out my cell phone and called my Dad, reassuring him that I was feeling better and explaining that I had left to visit Aang at the hospital. He cut me off, however, and had obviously been watching the newscast.

"Katara, what was Zuko talking about, when he told his father to leave our family alone?"

I sighed and twisted my fingers nervously in my shirt. "Well, he told me that his father controls the mortgage on our inn. He threatened to foreclose on us."

Dad sucked in a surprised breath. "I've got to call the bank. Find out what's going on. Are you okay, baby?"

"Sure, Dad. Don't worry about me. I love you." I hung up, staring off into space as I tried to remember what exactly Zuko had said. A flash of fear coursed through me as I recalled his hot grip on my neck, his face twisted in anger. _One phone call, and your family will lose everything_. Had Zuko been threatening me – or warning me?

I was still debating when Aang and his family came down on the elevator. We walked into the parking lot together, and after they bundled Aang carefully into their car, I climbed into my white truck and followed them. It had been several years since I had been up to the Sagely City of Ten Thousand Buddhas campus on a school field trip. After passing through the main gates, the driveway wound past the administration building and lecture halls, surrounded by forest, gardens, and flowers along the side. It looked basically the same as I remembered, however as I followed Aang's parents they drove past the main buildings toward an area I had never seen.

Mr. Gyatso pulled up in front of a large, three-story building. A sign in the parking lot read "School Dormitory" which, since Aang's dad taught at the Dharma University on campus, was probably some kind of family or faculty housing. Aang and his Mom headed into the building, and I started to follow them but Mr. Gyatso stopped me.

He gestured behind me and I turned to see the entrance to a stone-paved walking trail. "I think you need some time to collect your thoughts, my dear. Follow that path, it will take to you a relaxing spot for your meditation."

I wasn't really into meditation, but I didn't think this was the time to mention that. However I was still upset and thought maybe some time to myself might help me calm down. I nodded and headed in the direction he indicated.

Some of the trees and bushes still had their leaves, deep yellows and bright reds that combined to create a brilliant show of fall colors. The breeze was chilly and I huddled a little into my blue hoodie as I followed the stone path. Soon I came to a paved circular area, with stone benches scattered around, and a large fountain in the center. I sat on the edge and fished a scarlet leaf out of the cold water, rubbing it between my fingers until it began to shred, laying wilted and ragged in my hand like a crumpled little heart.

My phone rang suddenly, the sound jarring in the otherwise quiet garden. I winced and checked the screen – Zuko. I jabbed my finger at the _End_ button, cutting off the call before it could go to voicemail, then changed the volume to vibrate and set it on the edge of the fountain. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to find a sense of calm. Moments later, my cell phone started buzzing, the vibration causing it to clatter loudly against the stone. _I should have turned the damn thing off! _I snatched at it before the vibrations knocked it into the water, almost hanging up before I realized that it was Suki calling this time.

"What is it?" I barked into the phone.

"Geez, what's wrong with you?" Suki yelled back. "First you freak out last night, and you don't talk to me, and then you skip school today, and you don't call me, and you miss the assembly and OH MY GOD YOU WON'T BELIEVE –"

"I saw it," I grumbled.

"What? You saw the assembly? How?"

"On T.V."

"Wasn't that the sweetest thing you ever heard? The creepy dude was all, 'You betrayed your family,' and Zuko was all like, 'I did it for love,' and you _do_ realize he meant you, right?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Are you kidding me?" Suki's shriek was so loud I had to hold the phone away from my ear for a second. "He just said he loved you! On television!"

"Look, it's more complicated than that."

"No, Miss Angst, you're just making it complicated. Look, where are you?"

"Up at the Sagely City."

Suki snorted. "Are you joining the convent or something?"

"Get real. I'm visiting Aang. He lives up here, remember?"

"Whatever. Look, don't move. I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

"No – Suki, no, don't come. I'm trying to get a little peace here!"

"Screw peace. What you need is to have some sense knocked into you."

She hung up and I groaned as I snapped my phone shut. I didn't want to have to justify my feelings to Suki or anyone else. I was the only one who had seen Zuko attack Aang, and had witnessed the savagery in his eyes. I was the only one he had seduced. I was the one he truly betrayed, because I was the one who had fallen in love with him.

Wait…love? Oh, please, no. How much more pathetic could I be? My hormones must be messing with my head. I mean, Zuko was handsome, yes, with all that dark hair and those damn golden eyes. His body was freaking unbelievable, long limbs and curved muscles that made me itch to touch him. And his voice, of course, was husky and low and sent a quiver straight through my belly every time I heard him speak. But…but that didn't mean I was in love with him!

I stood up and started pacing. An elegant rock garden lined the fountain, but I was in no mood to appreciate its beauty. I scooped up a handful of small white pebbles and began throwing them into the fountain, deriving a certain satisfaction from watching the way they disturbed the peaceful water, sending ripples out in jagged circles.

Zuko was a spoiled, arrogant little rich boy. _Plop!_ Just because he went slumming with his uncle for a while didn't change the fact that he drove a car that cost more than my entire college education – not that I was probably even going to be able to afford college at all. _Plonk!_ He may claim to hate his father, but after the way he was raised, he had turned out just like his old man. Sneaky, manipulative, scheming. _Splash!_ He had planned his own father's downfall, arranged the press conference with the police and news cameras, had even won the race in order to set the whole thing up. I froze, my hand poised in the air to throw another pebble.

Oh my god. That morning in the library…he practically begged me not to come to the race. I didn't understand why at the time. He must have been planning this whole thing. He had to win the race to trick his father into confessing on tape. Did he really do all this just to protect me and my family?

I thought back to the news conference, the image of him smiling and shaking hands with Yon Rha burned into my memory. I clenched the rocks in my fist, the pain of their sharp edges clearing my mind. I could never forgive him for smiling at my mother's killer like that. I should consider myself lucky that our relationship ended before he hurt me even more. We were from two different worlds, and no matter how he claimed to have changed, the truth was that he just wasn't good for me. And he never would be.

I opened my hand, dropping the remaining rocks into the fountain until the water was cloudy and choked with dust. As the last pebble fell, I heard footsteps approaching on the stone path. I turned, ready to argue with Suki, but instead found myself frozen with my mouth hanging open in shock.

"Hello," said a familiar husky voice.

_Oh god oh god oh god…_

"I know you must be surprised to see me here." He slid his hands into his pockets, and somehow managed to look both sheepish and defiant at the same time.

_Not now oh god I can't handle this…_

"I was with Suki when she called you, and she let me ride up with her."

_Suki you traitor…damn why does he have to look so good and smell so good and be so irresistible…_

"Well, anyway, what I wanted to tell you about is that I've changed, and I, uh, I'm good now."

I licked my lips, trying to think of some way to respond. I was not going to give in to the temptation to run over and wrap him in my arms. Anger was the only thing that could salvage my pride now. "You can't possibly think that I – that any of us – would trust you, can you? I mean, how stupid do you think we are?"

He winced. "I can understand why you wouldn't trust me, and I know I've made some mistakes in the past." He moved forward, and I reflexively stepped back until the back of my knees hit the fountain.

"Like when you insulted me in class?" I challenged. "Or stopped talking to me for two months? Or how about when you put your hands around my throat?"

"Look, I admit I've done some awful things." Zuko lowered his head, pressing a palm to his temple. "I was wrong to tease you, or ignore you. I'm sorry that I hurt you, and Aang. And I never should've let Yon Rha get away." He raised his head to meet my gaze, determination shining in his eyes. "I'm going to try to stop him."

"Wait, you _let_ him get away?"

"Not on purpose! I was busy dealing with Father, and when I turned around he was gone. But I have an idea where he might be hiding. That's why I came here – I thought you might want to help me track him down."

Shock made me dizzy. My knees buckled and I landed on the edge of the fountain, my hands clenching around the rough stone for balance. Could I truly do that? Find my mother's killer, and bring him to justice? It was unbelievably tempting. But there was one problem – I would have to work with Zuko. I just couldn't do it. "There's no way I can trust you after everything you've done. You should get out of here, now." My hand slipped into the cold water and I was tempted to splash him with it, but I restrained myself, knowing the gesture would only make me look childish and spiteful.

"This isn't fair. Everyone else seems to trust me now. What is it with you?"

Anger gave me strength. I surged back to my feet, paced toward Zuko, and jabbed a finger into his chest. "Oh, everyone trusts you now? I was the first person to trust you, remember? I introduced you to all of my friends. The only reason they're even talking to you at all is because of me. And you turned around and betrayed me. Betrayed all of us."

Zuko closed his eyes, his expression pained, and took a deep breath. "I want to make it up to you. Let me help you bring your mother's killer to justice."

"How do I know this isn't some kind of trick?"

"Look, I've been through a lot in the past month, and it's been hard. But I'm realizing that I had to go through all those things to learn the truth." Zuko spread his hands wide. "I thought I had lost my honor, and that somehow my father could return it to me. But I know now that no one can give you your honor. It's something you earn for yourself, by choosing to do what's right. All I want now is to play my part in ending this chain of violence. Maybe my destiny is to help you restore balance to your family."

I crossed my arms. "That's a pretty speech, but I'm more interested in your actions than in your words. You might have everyone else buying your 'transformation,' but you and I both know you've struggled with doing the right thing in the past. So let me tell you something right now. You make one step backward, one slip-up, give me one reason to think you might hurt me or my friends again... and you won't have to worry about your destiny anymore. Because I'll make sure your destiny ends right then and there... _permanently_."

He nodded. "I can accept those terms. But we don't have any time to waste. If we're going to track him down, we have to leave now."

I swallowed. It was now or never. "All right. Let's do this." I stalked past Zuko, up the path back to the parking lot.

To my chagrin, Aang was hanging out next to Suki's car with her and Sokka. Suki saw us approach and smiled. "So, you guys kissed and made up, right?"

I scowled at her. "We most certainly have not. How could you bring him up here with you? I told you I didn't want to see him!"

She shrugged, undaunted by my bad mood. "You can't keep avoiding Zuko just 'cause he's been acting like a dick."

I groaned while Zuko opened the driver's side door on my white truck and motioned for me to climb in. "I appreciate the vote of confidence, Suki," he said drily, "but if you'll excuse us, we're in a hurry."

"Where are you guys going?" Sokka asked.

"_Make-up sex_," Suki replied in a loud stage whisper. Sokka rolled his eyes.

Aang piped up. "Are you taking a little fieldtrip with Zuko?"

"It's not a fieldtrip," I snapped. "We're going to find the man who took my mother from me."

Sokka straightened and looked at me. "What are you talking about?"

"Katara told me about the drunken boater who caused the accident that killed your mother. I know who did it. And I know how to find him. "

"And what exactly do you think this would accomplish?" Aang asked.

I shook my head and started to climb into the truck. "I knew you wouldn't understand."

"Wait, stop, I do understand. You're feeling unbelievable pain and rage. But you're not the only one who's ever felt that way," Aang said.

"She needs this, Aang," Zuko said. "This is about getting closure and justice."

"I don't think so," Aang countered. "I think it's about getting revenge."

"Fine!" I shouted. I was so frustrated, I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. "Maybe it is. Maybe that's what I need. Maybe that's what he deserves. This man, he's a monster."

Sokka spoke up. "Katara, she was my mother too. But I think Aang might be right. You can't just take the law into your own hands. It's not safe. Let the police handle it."

"Like they 'handled it' last time?" I replied. "Yon Rha got away, and they never pressed charges. Are you saying that's okay with you?"

Aang stepped between me and Sokka, spreading his hands out. "My father says that revenge is like a two-headed viper. While you watch your enemy go down, you're being poisoned yourself."

"That's cute. But this isn't temple pre-school," Zuko said. "It's the real world."

I appealed to Sokka. "Can't you understand? Now that I know he's out there, now that I know we could find him, I feel like I have no choice."

"Katara, you do have a choice," Aang said. "Forgiveness. Let your anger out and then let it go. Forgive him."

"That's the same as doing nothing!" Zuko countered.

Aang shook his head. "No it's not. It's easy to do nothing. But it's hard to forgive."

"It's not just hard. It's impossible." I slammed my door shut and shoved my key in the ignition while Zuko crossed to the passenger side and climbed in. I ignored the disapproving looks from Aang, Sokka and Suki and threw the truck into reverse, practically screeching out of the parking lot. My hands tightened on the wheel as I tried to get my emotions under control. Why did Zuko have to be on my side, and everyone else against me?

Zuko stayed silent, wisely, because I would have bit his head off if he had tried to comfort me at this point. He didn't say anything until we got to the gates of the Sagely City. "We have to go to my house to get some information. Do you know how to get there?"

I nodded and turned onto Highway 101. I had never been to his house, but when we were dating, I had looked up his address and mapped it online. I knew it was supposed to be some kind of huge mansion and had fantasized about being invited there. Now a feeling of dread curled in my stomach at the thought of having to go inside. I followed Zuko's directions and turned onto a long, pebbled driveway that wound past stately trees and shrubs. As we crested the top of a gentle hill, I was unable to keep an amazed gasp from escaping my lips.

I was looking at what seemed to be a British castle, a huge three-storied stone building with turrets and towers, surrounded by a variety of outbuildings. I could make out a large blue pool in the back followed by some kind of elaborate flower garden. The entire estate was flanked by miles of grapevines, the leaves largely brown and shriveled at this time of the year, but still impressive.

Zuko ignored the incredible sight – I guess he was used to it, damn rich kid – and pointed at the driveway. In my amazement, I hadn't immediately noticed the cluster of police cars parked in front of the house. "They're probably here collecting evidence," he said. "We're going to have to find a way to get past them."

"What exactly are we looking for?"

"Father told me that Yon Rha owns a small island off the coast. It's not in his name, though, so the police can't track him. My guess is that he retreated there until everything cools off and he's sure he's not going to get arrested for anything. Father keeps files on all his major partners, I'm sure we can get the coordinates of the island if we can just get past the police."

"And how the heck do we do that?"

Zuko gave me a confident smirk, and I felt my traitorous heart flutter in my chest. "You're going to create a distraction."

"Great," I muttered, pulling up to a stop behind an unmarked white van. Police officers were already loading crates of files and boxes of computer equipment into the back of the van. I shot Zuko a worried look but he just winked in return.

We climbed out of the car and Zuko strode directly over to a man who was dressed in a suit rather than a uniform and seemed to be directing the others. "Detective Kazinski, are you getting everything you need?"

The detective nodded and shook hands with Zuko. "Thanks to your tip, we're exercising our search warrant. I'm sorry, but you won't be able to stay in your house tonight."

Zuko just nodded. "That's okay, take your time. I'm going to stay with my Uncle. I just wanted to pack an overnight bag. You know – toothbrush, that sort of thing."

Detective Kazinski hesitated a moment, then nodded. "Sure, but I'll have to go with you, just to make sure you're not taking any sensitive items. You won't be able to take your computer or anything like that."

"No problem," Zuko said. "By the way, I'd like to introduce you to my girlfriend, Katara Iweda." Zuko then snuck an arm around my waist and pulled me tight against his side.

_Girlfriend?_ I wanted to smack Zuko, but the detective was watching, so I plastered on a smile and shook his hand. As soon as he turned around to lead us up the front steps, however, I tried to twist out of Zuko's grip. He just held me harder with a self-satisfied little grin.

I decided that two could play at that game. I pretended to stumble on the top step, my heel coming down hard on the top of his foot. He groaned and dropped his hold on my waist. "Oh, baby! I'm so sorry! Are you all right?" The detective turned around and I tried to shrug helplessly. "I'm so clumsy. I'm always doing stuff like that." I turned to look at Zuko. "Does it hurt, sugar plum?"

"I'm fine," he gritted, limping up to the front door. "Don't worry about it, apple dumpling."

I batted my eyelashes. "I'm _soooo_ lucky to have such an understanding boyfriend." Zuko held the door open and the detective walked through first. "Thanks, honey cakes," I whispered as I passed through, but while no one else was looking, I made sure to stomp down hard – on Zuko's other foot.

He grunted and followed behind me. "No problem, sweetheart. I don't mind that you're clumsy. You've got other _assets_ that make up for it."

I whipped around to face Zuko. "Why you—"

He grabbed my arms tight, yanked me hard against him, and planted a kiss on my lips. I knew he was just trying to shut me up before I blew our cover in front of the detective, but I still couldn't stop the sudden heat that swamped me. I flushed all over – with anger, or embarrassment, nothing else – but kept my mouth shut when he pulled back. I could hear the detective laughing, saying something about 'young love' while Zuko grinned and nodded, but the furious ringing in my ears was blocking out the rest.

Zuko leaned down to whisper in my ear. "You pissed off?" I nodded stiffly. "Good," he murmured. "Take that anger, and channel it into picking a fight with my sister. You two are going to be the diversion while I slip away to Father's safe. Got it?"

"Anything for you, _darling_," I muttered.

"God, I love it when you talk dirty," he whispered before releasing me and heading quickly for the stairs.

I turned to follow him, mentally planning how much physical damage I could inflict on him without anyone else noticing. But when I finally looked around and realized where I was standing, my jaw dropped open.

The entire foyer had been built using some kind of white marble with green veins running through it. A chandelier shone overhead, and ornate mirrors on either side of the main doors reflected the spinning crystals until it seems that thousands of them were sparkling in the afternoon light. A massive staircase led to the second floor, splitting into two hallways, with a dramatic stained glass window in between them. I forced my feet to move across the hard floor, peeking from side to side quickly enough to make out room after room of outrageously expensive furniture and artwork. I knew Zuko's father was wealthy, but this was beyond even my wildest imaginings.

"Sorry, no time for a tour. Maybe later," Zuko said as he tugged on my arm, hurrying me up the staircase and down the hallway to the right. We passed a huge, state-of-the-art media room and a gym – an entire gym! – before I heard the screaming.

"You have no right to be in my house!" came a shrill voice from one of the bedrooms.

"Ma'am," someone replied calmly, "we have a search warrant. We could escort you outside right now, but we wanted to allow you to pack a few personal possessions first."

"I want to speak to your superior! This is outrageous! You have no right to treat me this way. Do you know who I am?" As we approached the door, I knew without a doubt that it was Azula's voice I heard. No one else could manage that perfect combination of scorn and disbelief.

Zuko stopped in the doorway and gave me a nudge into the room. The detective was already approaching Azula, and I followed while Zuko quickly disappeared.

Azula spotted me and I swear the temperature in the room dropped ten degrees. "This is all your fault," she screeched. "Everything was fine until you started whoring around with my brother."

I clenched my fists. So Zuko wanted me to start a fight with Azula? No problem. In fact, this was going to be fun. "There's only one whore in this room, bitch, and it's not me."

Azula let out a shrill laugh that sounded like a kitten being strangled. "Don't play innocent. My brother ignored his own date on Homecoming to go sniffing around after you the whole night."

"Homecoming? You mean the night you gave _my_ date a _blow job_ in your car?" Suki had told me the truth about Haru shortly afterwards, although I hadn't really cared at the time because I had already broken up with him. But suddenly I found myself completely incensed about it. I heard a few murmurs in the room and realized that we were attracting a lot of attention. Good. Let's see if I could step it up a notch. There was a table in front of me with a beautiful arrangement of flowers in a heavy crystal vase, and I started moving casually toward it.

"Haru wouldn't have come with me if you had been woman enough to hold his attention. He wasn't satisfied with a frigid little prude like you."

I snorted. "First I'm a whore, then I'm a prude? Make up your mind."

"How long did you wait before you jumped into bed with my brother? A day? Two?"

"You're the one trying to blow her way through the whole football team. The only reason any of the guys are interested in you is because you put out."

"That's a complete lie!" Azula was so enraged, it looked like a vein was about to pop in her forehead.

"Well, they sure as hell don't like you for your personality."

"You peasant! How dare you speak to me that way! You're just a greedy, social-climbing little slut who thinks she can fuck her way into money."

I picked up the vase and whipped it around, sending flowers and water flying across the room as I struggled to keep my grip on the slippery crystal. I managed to set the empty vase down on the table, then looked up to find Azula and several officers dripping wet with almost comical expressions of shock. I was on the verge of laughing until Azula launched herself across the room, evading the officers and reaching across the table to grab at my neck. I pulled out of her reach just in time but she managed to grip my arms, trying to draw me closer. I twisted and moved back, shrugging out of my blue hoodie and leaving it in her grasp while I backed up several steps.

At this point the officers were able to pull her aside, restraining her and speaking in low tones. "Ma'am, you can either calm down here or you can calm down at the station. It's your choice. But if you try to lay hands on anyone again, we may have to tase you." One of the officers patted the taser hanging from his equipment belt, pinning Azula with a warning frown.

Detective Kazinski came over to my side. "Are you okay?" he asked. I nodded and he looked up with a frown on his face. "Where's Zuko?"

"Here!" Zuko said as he came into the room from the hallway, holding a towel in one hand. He wasn't carrying anything else as far as I could see, so I couldn't tell if he'd managed to get to his father's safe or not. "Sorry about my sister. She's always had a bit of a temper." Zuko walked over to Azula and tried to hand her the towel.

She looked up at him with an expression so cold, so purely evil, that I reached out a hand to try to pull Zuko back. He was too close to her, though, and before anyone could respond, she lunged forward, pulling the taser from the officer's belt and jabbing it right into the middle of Zuko's chest. Blue light flashed, the air crackled, and I smelled something burning. The screaming voices faded into the background as I raced forward, unable to reach Zuko in time, watching in horror as he fell heavily to the ground. His head bounced as he landed, his eyes closed, smoke rising from the charred shreds of his silk shirt in the center of his chest.

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**Author's Note: **I apologize for making you wait so long for this update! This chapter is long and packed with drama, so I hope that makes up for it. I spent this last month reading lots of fabulous shojo/josei manga series (Mars, Blackbird, Hot Gimmick, Tramps Like Us, High School Debut). I don't think of this reading as "distracting" me from my writing – rather I like to think of it as refilling the well of inspiration!

My fellow über-fans probably noticed that I lifted huge chunks of dialog directly from ATLA. Let's face it, the original source material is so good, I won't delude myself into thinking I could improve on it (other than giving it a Zutara ending, obviously). I also condensed a lot of events and changed the order somewhat to keep the pacing tight. I think there are somewhere between 3-5 chapters left before my story comes to its conclusion, so please be patient while I work on wrapping everything up. As always, thanks for reading and giving me such supportive comments. They are better than chocolate!


	26. Chapter 26: Blue Fire

**Title:** The Taming of the Shrew  
**Author:** setlib  
**Rating:** T-rated for language and sexual content  
**Setting:** Alternate Universe – modern high school, no bending  
**Pairings:** Zuko x Katara  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own the rights to any characters from Avatar: The Last Airbender.

**Summary:** Zuko and Katara are seniors in high school. He teases her, then ignores her. She despises him. But when Zuko's father kicks him out of the house and he has to move in with his hippie Uncle Iroh, he begins to see Katara in a new light. But as the bard warned, "the course of true love never did run smooth."

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**The Taming of the Shrew, Chapter 26: Blue Fire**

My entire world was aflame, burning with a cold blue fire. I was adrift in an electric sea that buoyed me and boiled me at the same time. Fire and water, flames and waves, twisting together in agonizing harmony. Everything revolved around two points, heavy anchors that pulsed with pain. As my world began to slowly come back into focus, I realized those points were the back of my head, hot and sticky against the cold tile floor, and a strange tightness in my chest.

Cool fingers stroked my forehead, my cheeks, my neck. "Zuko. Zuko! Can you hear me?"

I felt compelled to answer, but my body would not respond. I couldn't speak, or turn my head, or even open my eyes. A whirlwind of hoarse voices spun around me but I ignored them, waiting for _her_ voice to return.

"Open your eyes, Zuko. Look at me."

I tried to obey. I wanted desperately to soothe the worry in that soft voice. I wasn't exactly sure who was calling me, I only knew that I wanted to pull her close, keep her safe from…something. The fire was receding, but the waves still smothered me as I struggled to float to consciousness.

"They're going to take your shift off. Hold on." I felt like I should protest, but almost immediately I felt a sharp tugging on my chest, one that sent bolts of pain slicing through my murky thoughts.

The voice returned, harder this time. "Dammit, Zuko, wake up!" A slap across my cheek brought me fully awake. I opened my eyes to find Katara leaning over me, her dark blue eyes brimming with tears. I tried to raise my hand to her face, but I couldn't even lift it off the floor.

"Don't…cry," I whispered. Another sharp pain pulled a groan from me, and I looked down to find two police officers crouched over my body, cutting my shirt off to reveal an ugly star-shaped burn in the center of my chest. "What…?"

"Don't you remember? Azula tased you. They cuffed her and dragged her out of here."

It started to come back to me in pieces. The look in Azula's eyes, gleeful and cruel, as she stabbed the taser at my chest. The flash across my nerves, just before I dropped like a stone and everything went black. And before that, I remembered suddenly, the information I had stored on the USB drive in my pocket.

"Tara –" My head pounded as I turned to her, trying to check my pocket to make sure it was still there, but my hand was clumsy and difficult to control.

"Shhh, don't try to move," she cut me off. "Let's make sure you're okay first."

The police officers were apparently satisfied after inspecting my burn and nudged Katara aside to probe the back of my head. One of them shone a flashlight in my eyes and pronounced me concussion-free. "But just in case, we need to take him to a hospital to get checked out. Don't want to risk a lawsuit," one of the officers told Katara. "Keep him still until we get back with the first aid kit."

Katara leaned over me and grabbed my hand. I concentrated on my fingers, on curling them around hers, but I had to settle instead for a clumsy squeeze. In return she gripped me hard, yelling, "Don't you ever do anything like that again!"

My lips twitched in a small smile. "Yurrr…" I licked my lips and tried not to slur my words this time. "You're worried?"

"Of course I'm worried, you idiot!" She wiped her eyes roughly, impatiently, and scowled at me. It was the cutest thing I had ever seen.

"You don't hate me?" I asked. I squeezed her fingers again, more control in my hand this time.

"No, I don't hate you," she mumbled, sniffling.

"Then forgive me," I whispered. She looked down at me silently, and suddenly I was afraid she would refuse. I pulled her hand up to my face, ran her knuckles over my lips. "Please."

Katara froze, her gaze following the path of her fingers across my mouth. Just when I thought she was going to pull away, she closed her eyes and leaned down, pressing her lips gently against mine. Her warm breath, her lemon scent, her soft sighs – all things I feared I'd never have again, were surrounding me now. I wanted to say a prayer of thanks, but it was Katara herself who was my goddess, so instead I moved my lips under hers, reverently, penitently. My heart pounded, sending blood racing through my body. It made my head throb, but also woke up my muscles, restored my control. All too soon she pulled back, looking down at me with a smile.

"Your forgiveness means the world to me. Thank you, Katara."

"I think I'm the one who should be thanking you," she replied. "I know you've been trying to protect me this whole time."

I tried to pull her close for another kiss, but someone cleared their throat above us, and there was scattered laughter in the room. "I guess you're not in such bad shape, if you're able to make out with your girlfriend." Katara pulled back quickly, and I looked up to see Detective Kazinski standing over us, grinning. "I was going to call an ambulance to take you to the hospital."

"No ambulance," I said. "Katara can drive me."

"Okay. I'll get you cleaned up first, then." Kazinski knelt next to me with the first aid kit and Katara backed away, blushing, not meeting my gaze. The Detective slapped some bandages on my injuries, none too gently, then draped my arm over his shoulders and heaved, maneuvering me into a wobbly standing position. Katara inserted herself under my other arm and we started out in an unsteady parade, carefully winding our way along the hall and down the stairs. Embarrassed at my weakness, I fought to regain control of my muscles. With effort, the sluggishness began to abate. By the time we went out the front door and down the main steps, I felt relatively steady.

Katara opened the passenger door and Kazinski helped me into her truck. "I'm sorry about all this," he said as I fastened my seatbelt.

"What's going to happen to Azula?" I asked.

"Well, assaulting an officer and resisting arrest are serious charges, not to mention her attack on you." He snorted. "Your father's lawyer is going to have a busy night."

Katara started up the truck. "Don't worry about her, Zuko. Let's just make sure you're okay." Kazinski closed my door and Katara pulled out, heading slowly up the long driveway back to the main road. "Just sit back, we'll be at the hospital in less than twenty minutes—"

"We're not going to the hospital," I said. "We're going after Yon Rha."

"Are you crazy?" Katara shouted, swerving as she looked over at me. I reached out and jerked the wheel back to straighten out the truck. "You're hurt—"

"I'm fine. Tasers don't cause any permanent damage, and the effects have almost completely worn off."

"Except for your burn! And your head! You're obviously not thinking straight."

I sighed. "I'm not going to spend three hours at the E.R. for them to check my bandages and tell me I'm okay. Head to the harbor."

"What? The harbor? Why?"

I pulled the flash drive out of my pocket. "I've got the coordinates to Yon Rha's island. We're going to have to use my yacht."

I expected more argument, but Katara was uncharacteristically quiet as she turned onto the highway heading toward the ocean. As we approached the harbor, she cleared her throat and started babbling nervously. "Uh, about your boat. You have to understand, I was very upset this morning. Really, really mad. I mean, I thought you had totally used me and I just wasn't thinking straight—"

"Katara, what the hell are you talking about?"

She glanced at me as she parked the car in the harbor lot, then sighed. "You'll see soon enough."

I grabbed my key from the office and headed down the docks, proud that I was able to keep my balance without too much trouble. Katara was slow to follow, but I didn't think much about it until I had climbed into my boat and begun moving around, preparing her to sail. That's when I came across the table where we'd eaten dinner on our date – only a few days ago, yet it felt like forever. So many things had changed since then. Katara and I had made love, then I'd broken her heart. And, judging from the damage she'd done to the benches and table, she hadn't taken it well.

"Hell hath no fury?" I read, running my fingers over the words crudely carved into the tabletop. I turned around to find Katara lingering sheepishly behind me, trying to use her foot to brush aside the broken glass from the cabin window. I laughed. "Remind me never to get on your bad side again."

Her brow furrowed. "You're not mad?"

I walked over to her and folded her into my arms, resting my chin on top of her head. "I deserved it. I know. I'm just grateful that you loved me that much." I pulled back to look down at her. "Do you think you'll ever be able to love me like that again?"

She looked up at me, blushing, with a small smile. "Zuko, I never stopped loving you."

I wanted to kiss her right then, sweep her off her feet like some romantic movie lead, and sail off with her into the sunset. But this wasn't a pleasure cruise. She needed my help right now – and I owed her. More than I could probably ever repay.

"Then let's do this thing," I said, lacing my fingers with hers. "Together."


	27. Chapter 27: Southern Raiders

**Title:** TheTamingoftheShrew  
**Author:** setlib  
**Rating:** T-rated for language and sexual content  
**Setting:** Alternate Universe – modern high school, no bending  
**Pairings:** Zuko x Katara  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own the rights to any characters from Avatar:TheLastAirbender.

**Summary:** Zuko and Katara are seniors in high school. He teases her, then ignores her. She despises him. But when Zuko's father kicks him out of the house and he has to move in with his hippie Uncle Iroh, he begins to see Katara in a new light. But as the bard warned, "the course of true love never did run smooth."

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**The Taming of the Shrew, Chapter 27: Southern Raiders**

It was late afternoon, and we had been sailing for a couple of hours. I called my Dad so he wouldn't worry, and just told him that I was hanging out with Zuko. Which was technically true. I simply neglected to mention the whole chasing-down-Yon-Rha-on-Zuko's-yacht part.

Zuko had downloaded the coordinates of Yon Rha's private island from the flash drive and had been handling the navigation. I bustled around, trying to make myself useful by whipping up a quick dinner of stale crackers and canned tuna from the galley cupboards. I carried the food and some hot coffee up to Zuko.

He was standing easily with one hand on the wheel, wearing a black fleece that had been stowed away in the cabin. It fit him well, emphasizing his broad shoulders and trim waist. I had managed to find a similar jacket but it didn't look anywhere near as good on me; it was baggy on the top and stretched tight around my hips, and I felt frumpy in comparison.

Zuko looked out over the ocean like some medieval prince who owned everything he surveyed. That innate confidence, bone-deep and unquestioned, was one of the things that drew me to him. He never seemed to doubt the path he had chosen, even when everyone around him was screaming that he was wrong. And he was wrong, frequently. But once he made up his mind about something, he saw it through to the very end. Zuko had pledged to protect me, and finally I understood how completely committed he was to that promise.

I handed him the mug of fresh coffee, and he plucked a cracker from the plate, popped it in his mouth and swallowed it down.

"Canned tuna, huh? What I wouldn't give for one of your muffins right now."

"I'll cook a special batch for you as soon as we get back home." I looked out at the water. "Are we going to get there before the sun sets?"

He nodded, pointing straight ahead. "That's it, right there."

I strained my eyes and could barely make out a smudge of dark blue on the horizon. "Yon Rha's island?"

"It's called Whale Tail island on the map. There should be a dock. I'll circle around." He glanced over at me. "It will still be a while before we get there. Why don't you get some rest? You'll need all your strength."

"You're the one who's injured!" I countered. "Don't worry about my strength. I have plenty. I'm not the helpless little girl I was when my mom died."

Zuko nodded and we ate in silence, watching the horizon as the island came slowly into focus. I scanned the area for any other activity, but it seemed that we were the only ones approaching the island. When we were closer I could make out a large yacht anchored at the dock, but there was no sign of life around the ship. Zuko maneuvered carefully up to the dock and I helped him prepare to disembark.

"This is kind of creepy," I said. "Why isn't there anyone else around?"

Zuko shrugged as he secured the sails. "It's not a tourist spot. Be grateful we haven't run into any security."

I took a deep breath to calm my nerves and then stepped onto the dock, my gaze following a stone path that wound past the small boathouse and up the hill until it disappeared behind the trees. Zuko came up behind me and put his hand on my shoulder. "You okay?" he asked.

I swallowed. "No," I replied. "But I will be."

I started up the path, Zuko following at my back, and within minutes I spotted the house – no, mansion – at the top of the hill. It was a vacation paradise, heavy teak beams framing wide windows underneath a red tile roof. The house was perched along the rocky face of the hill with an elaborate network of gardens spread out below. A long covered porch wrapped around the back of the house, and I froze suddenly when I realized there were figures moving on the patio.

"That's Yon Rha pacing near the railing," Zuko whispered, "but I'm not sure who that is sitting down. Let's get a little closer."

He moved in front of me, staying near the trees at the edge of the path. It was twilight, the sun setting behind the house and casting long shadows to help hide us in the garden. We stopped behind a massive redwood tree that stood at the base of the stairs that led up to the patio. Yon Rha whirled around suddenly and my breath froze in my chest. I was certain he had spotted us, until he threw his hands up in the air and started pacing again.

"What would you have me do?" His tone was pleading, almost whining. "Stay there and get arrested? Would that make you happy? To see me in jail?"

"What would make me _happy_is to have a son who is not an embarrassment to the family name." I couldn't see the woman speaking – his mother? – but I could hear her cold, tightly controlled voice. Bitterness lent a sour edge to her words. "Your _father_ never had to worry about being arrested. How are you supposed to care for the company he left you, the company he built with his own sweat and blood, when you can't even do business in the state of California?"

"It's not _my_ fault Ozai was arrested. But once the investigators start looking into his finances, it could lead them directly to me!"

The woman sighed. "A few well-placed bribes will smooth things over."

"This isn't China. I can't throw money at the police every time something goes wrong."

"Why not? You did last time. You never even faced charges for that boating accident." I gasped, and grabbed Zuko's arm to steady myself.

"I had Ozai helping me last time." Yon Rha stopped at the railing, looking out toward the water. From our position in the shadows, I could see his hands clenched on the porch railing, his shoulders stiff with tension, but I had no sympathy for him.

A chair scraped along the stone. "I'm going inside. Dinner will ready in an hour. I need you to pick some fresh rosemary. You can at least manage to do _that_ right, can't you?"

"Yes, Mother."

I heard a door slide open and shut, and then Yon Rha turned and started walking briskly down the stairs into the garden, a brown basket in his hand. We shrunk back behind a fern and he passed near us but didn't stop. He headed down another small flight of stone stairs into a lower garden level, and Zuko and I carefully left our hiding spot to follow him. He walked over to the side, where an herb garden grew out of a large stone planter.

Zuko caught my attention, gesturing to something at the base of the stairs. My eyes widened with surprise that someone, probably the gardener, had left something that dangerous lying around. Zuko whispered his plan into my ear, and I nodded. I crept downstairs carefully, while he circled around to the other side.

Yon Rha was mumbling to himself, ripping leaves none too gently off the plants. I could smell the scent of crushed rosemary in the air, spicy and energizing, and I breathed deeply. I could do this.

A few moments later I heard a sound on the other side of the garden. Yon Rha spun around. "Hello? Is someone there?"

I crouched behind the stone wall while he peered into the shadows across from me. I couldn't see Zuko anywhere, and apparently Yon Rha couldn't either, because he turned back to the garden and began pulling more rosemary. However a few moments later he whirled, throwing his basket hard into a gap between the trees.

"Nobody sneaks up on me!" he shouted, raising his fists.

Suddenly Zuko leapt out from the other side of the garden, landing behind Yon Rha and sweeping his legs out from under him with a kick. "I wasn't behind the bush," he said drily, then looked up and nodded at me.

I grabbed the nozzle of the industrial pressure washer that had been left at the base of the stairs and turned on the water tap, then hit the power button. The nozzle in my hands began to vibrate as the machine roared into life. I lowered the tip to point directly at Yon Rha, my finger moving to the trigger. I was poised to send two thousand pounds of pressure per square inch straight at his head, and felt a savage satisfaction when I saw the fear in his eyes.

He backed up, on his knees, one hand out in supplication. "Look, whatever you want, just take it!"

"Do you know who I am?" I shouted. He shook his head. "You better remember! Take a closer look!" I took a step forward, pointing the nozzle directly at his face.

He licked his lips nervously and started babbling. "Yes, yes, I remember you now. You're the little girl." He lowered his hands to the ground, bowing his head. "The boating accident, right? It was your mother? I did a bad thing. I know I did. I'm sorry. I stopped drinking after that. I swear I won't do anything like that again. How can I make it up to you?" He reached into his back pocket, bringing out his wallet, pulling out thousand-dollar bills. "Let me compensate you for your loss. What would be fair? Ten thousand? Twenty?" He tried to throw the money at me, but it just fluttered to the ground.

I lowered the nozzle and hit the switch, shutting off the washer. I felt nauseated, my stomach churning, my voice subdued. "I always wondered what kind of person could do such a thing. But now that I see you, I think I understand." I dropped the washer and walked forward. "There's just nothing inside you. Nothing at all. You're pathetic and sad and empty. But, as much as I hate you, I'm not going to sink to your level." I looked up at Zuko. "Call the police. Give them the coordinates of this island. I'm sure by now they have several questions for Yon Rha."

Zuko grinned wickedly and pulled out his cell phone. "My pleasure."

As Zuko called in the coordinates, we left. Simply turned our backs and walked away while Yon Rha crawled on his knees, gathering his precious money off the stones. Zuko hung up just as we got back to the dock.

"I need to go. Now. I don't want to be here a second longer," I said, climbing onto Zuko's yacht.

He stayed on the dock and crossed his arms. "You want the police to take him into custody, right? We need to keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn't try to sail away."

I looked over at Yon Rha's luxury yacht and smiled. "Wait there. I have an idea." A quick search of the galley turned up exactly what I needed. I climbed back on deck and tossed the 5 pound bag down to Zuko.

He turned it around in his hands and raised an eyebrow. "Sugar? In the gas tank? That is just evil. How did you think of that?"

I laughed. "I almost did it to your boat. Be grateful I had second thoughts."

He shook his head. "I never knew you had such a vindictive streak. You do realize this will destroy a very expensive engine, don't you?"

"We have to keep him from escaping, right? It's not vengeance. It's our civic duty."

"Duty, my ass. But I'll do it." Zuko climbed onto Yon Rha's yacht with the bag of sugar and I made myself useful getting ready to set sail again. A few minutes later he joined me, chuckling under his breath as he began the delicate process of maneuvering his boat away from the dock.

We worked in silence until we were well away from the island. It was night now, the half moon glowing brightly, the outline of its shadow side faintly visible. People were like that, variable as the phases of the moon. Sometimes the light side dominated, sometimes the dark, but their whole being always contained the potential for both. No matter how bright they might be, darkness always lay temptingly within reach.

"Are you okay?" Zuko asked softly.

I nodded. "I wanted to do it. I wanted to take out all my anger at him, but I couldn't. I don't know if it's because I'm too weak to do it or if it's because I'm strong enough not to."

"Well, one thing I know about you for sure, is that you're not weak. I've learned a thing or two about vengeance, and one thing I believe, is that going public is one of the worst things you can do to these guys. They use their money and position to keep secrets, to intimidate people and keep them from talking. But if you expose them, suddenly you're not trying to deal with it alone anymore. Get it off your chest, so you can begin to move on. To forgive."

"But I didn't forgive him. I'll never forgive him."

"I don't mean forgive Yon Rha," Zuko said gently, reaching out to place his hand on my shoulder. "I mean forgive yourself."

Tears sprang to my eyes. How did he know? "I couldn't protect her. I couldn't save her. I always thought I should have been able to do something."

"You've been so caught up in remembering how she died, you've forgotten to remember how she lived. How much she loved you."

Zuko pulled me against him, let me hide my face against his shoulder. His left hand remained on the steering wheel but his right arm wrapped tight around me. I held on to him as hard as I could, cried until I was gasping for breath. I let go of my anger, my fear, my pride, all the self-recriminations that had been haunting me. His embrace was warm, steady, and patient as we sailed back to civilization, reminding me that no matter what mistakes I may have made in the past, I was still worthy of love. I knew now that Zuko would always be there for me, and I could let myself lean on his strength until I could find my own again.


	28. Chapter 28: Finale

**Title:** The Taming of the Shrew  
**Author:** setlib  
**Rating:** T-rated for language and sexual content  
**Setting:** Alternate Universe – modern high school, no bending  
**Pairings:** Zuko x Katara  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own the rights to any characters from Avatar: The Last Airbender.

**Summary:** Zuko and Katara are seniors in high school. He teases her, then ignores her. She despises him. But when Zuko's father kicks him out of the house and he has to move in with his hippie Uncle Iroh, he begins to see Katara in a new light. But as the bard warned, "the course of true love never did run smooth."

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**The Taming of the Shrew, Chapter 28: Finale**

I slept for almost twenty-four hours straight. After I docked the yacht, Katara drove me to Uncle Iroh's and I went straight to bed. All the tension of the past few days caught up with me at once, not to mention the aftereffects of the taser. It was nearly sunset of the next day when I finally woke up and staggered to the shower. I caught sight of myself in the mirror and winced. Between the fuzz that had grown on my teeth overnight, the bits of fleece from my shirt that had stuck in the tender burn on my chest, my hair standing straight up on one side, crusted blood on the back of my head, a day's growth of beard, and the still-red slash of a scar across my face, I felt like a rejected extra from a zombie movie. I swallowed a few painkillers and stood under the hot water of the shower, trying to clear my head.

Father had been arrested. He had been exposed, his house searched, and I had no doubt the police would find plenty to charge him with. Even Azula had been arrested, an added bonus that was well worth the new scar on my chest. Yon Rha would face justice as well. Most importantly, Katara and her family were safe. And – something I had not even allowed myself to dream about – Katara didn't even hate me anymore. All things considered, yesterday had been a really, really good day.

I shut off the water, suddenly impatient to see Katara again. I shaved and brushed my teeth in record time. After quickly inspecting my injuries in the mirror, I decided against any more bandages. I got dressed, opting for jeans and a soft black cotton t-shirt that wouldn't aggravate my burn too much, and headed downstairs. As soon as I opened my door, a smell hit me with enough force to stop me in my tracks – the rich, sweet scent of Katara's muffins. I took the stairs two at a time and burst into the kitchen to find her bent over, pulling a hot tray out of the oven.

"We have to stop meeting like this," I said, laughing when she squealed in surprise.

She tossed the muffin pan down on the stovetop, kicked the oven door closed with her foot, and dashed across the room with the hot pads still on her hands. I bit back a groan of pain when she slammed into my chest and hugged her tighter, ignoring the pressure against my burn.

"I promised you muffins, remember?" she said, pulling back enough to look up at me.

My stomach twisted in hunger. "Perfect timing. I'm starving." When was the last time I had eaten a full meal? Yesterday? The day before?

Her gaze lingered on my face for a moment, her brow tight with worry. I smiled, squeezing her shoulders, and felt some of the tension drain out of her as she smiled in return. She stepped back and waved toward the patio door. "Have a seat, I'll bring some food right out."

I stepped outside, shivering a little in the cool twilight air. It felt good, though, waking me up the rest of the way. Soon Katara came out carrying a tray loaded with sandwiches, muffins, and tea, and I took an entire muffin, still hot from the oven, and crammed it into my mouth. She laughed and began nibbling at a sandwich while I continued stuffing my face. Once the most urgent press of hunger had passed, I leaned back in my chair, barely suppressing a satisfied belch.

Katara bent over and started rummaging around in her backpack. "I hate to do this now that you're just starting to relax, but I have some bad news."

I clenched my jaw, then winced at the sharp burst of pain. "What is it? My father? Is he out of jail already?"

She shook her head. "All his assets were frozen, and he's having trouble coming up with the money for bail."

"Is it Azula, then?"

"No, apparently they're keeping her longer for some kind of 'psychiatric observation.' She's pretty pissed about it, and her anger management issues aren't helping her case at all."

I nodded. Azula had always been cool and calculating - as long as she was in control. But now the balance of power had shifted, and I wasn't surprised that she couldn't adjust. With all our money and influence stripped away, who was she, really? Who was I?

Katara reached out and grabbed my hand. "Hey, I didn't mean to freak you out. Everything's fine."

"So what's the bad news?"

She pulled a huge stack of papers and binders out of her backpack and slapped it on the table in front of me. "Homework waits for no man. First semester exams start in two weeks, and with all your absences lately, you have a lot of catching up to do."

I sighed and leaned back in my chair. "Yes, ma'am. What's due tomorrow?"

She cocked her head to the side and looked at me with a small frown. "You really _are _out of it, aren't you?"

"What do you mean?"

"There's no class tomorrow, silly. It's Thanksgiving."

"What, already?" I started counting the days backward in my head and realized she was right. This whole week - hell, the whole month - had been completely disorienting.

"Iroh and I have been baking all day while you were sleeping. It's going to be amazing!" She wiggled with excitement in her chair. "I'm making pumpkin pie, and pecan pie, and even apple pie! Plus my special recipe melt-in-your-mouth biscuits, and Iroh's going to have a nut loaf _and _a tofurkey."

"A to-what? What the hell is that?"

"Tofu shaped like a turkey breast. Obviously."

"Oh, _hell_, no. That is sacrilege. And did you actually say 'nut loaf'?"

"It's a loaf made out of -"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. I'd make a joke about Iroh's nuts here, but it's just too damn easy."

We kept squabbling on and off through the rest of the evening, over dinner or homework or whatever. But our hands kept reaching for each other, and smiles played around our mouths, and by the end of the night, I think I knew the answer to my question. I might not have money or influence anymore, but I was still me. And if I was good enough for Katara, then I was good enough to do just about anything.

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The next day, Thanksgiving, Iroh's store was closed to customers. Katara's Inn was closed too, so we all gathered together in Iroh's front room. When Katara's family arrived, Hakoda sought me out immediately and shook my hand.

"I owe you," he said in his deep, gravelly voice, gripping my hand tightly. "You protected my daughter, you got justice for my wife." He swallowed heavily, then continued. "I won't forget."

Then he slung an arm around my shoulders to wrap me in a hard hug. My mind couldn't help but compare it to the way my father's hand used to land heavy on my collarbone, giving me a tight squeeze that was the closest thing he could produce that would appear to be an affectionate gesture to an onlooker, even if it was painful to me. Hakoda's bear hug was something entirely different - enveloping, accepting, uplifting. I had a lump in my throat when he finally let me go, but he just nodded, and didn't expect me to speak. Like maybe he knew exactly what I was feeling.

Sokka, being Sokka, just strolled over and punched me in the arm. "So I hear you have a pretty sweet yacht. And it's got GPS?"

"The best electronic map available."

Sokka sighed dreamily. "I love a good map."

Suki interrupted. "We should double date. You know, me and Sokka, you and Katara. On the yacht. Wouldn't that be awesome?"

I shrugged. "There's just one problem. I'm planning to sell it."

Sokka wiggled his eyebrows. "How much?"

"I don't think you could afford it. Although I am going to have to lower my asking price, because a vandal snuck on board and defaced some of the furniture and cabinetry." I glanced over at Katara to see if she heard me, but she was suddenly extremely busy helping her Grandmother set the table.

"What are you going to do with the money?" Suki asked.

"Pay for college."

Katara apparently heard that well enough, and came over to stand by me. "But you won that track scholarship to Stanford. That should cover everything right?"

I leaned closer and whispered, "I wasn't talking about college for me. I was talking about college for you."

"What? That's crazy! You can't use your money to pay for my school!"

Gran Gran shuffled over and gave Katara a pinch on her arm - and it looked like a hard one. "Let the boy talk," she scolded.

"Jun told me about your application to the Culinary Institute. Stanford and St. Helena are only 100 miles apart. We could see each other every weekend. And you'd be done in two years, right?"

Katara's bottom lip started to wobble, and for a moment I thought maybe I had overstepped some boundary. Was I not supposed to assume we'd still be together next year? But then she threw her arms around my neck, and I relaxed and hugged her back. "I'm not taking your money," she mumbled against my neck, "but I love that you were thinking about me. And I love you."

I tightened my arms around her. "I love you, too. We'll work something out," I whispered back. Which, in my mind, meant that I would keep arguing until I convinced her that letting me pay for her college was the only sensible thing she could do. I certainly wasn't going to stand back and watch my girlfriend worry about affording college when it was within my means to help her. Eventually I'd wear her down and she'd agree.

"Have you thought about a major?" Hakoda asked.

I nodded. "I always assumed I would go into business. But, well, I was talking to Detective Kazinski this morning, and I started thinking, I might like to try something else. Like law enforcement. Maybe becoming a prosecuter or something."

Katara put her hands on her hips. "You are pretty good at arguing."

"Only 'pretty good'?" I protested. "I have to object to that lukewarm estimation of my skills."

"Why am I not surprised?"

We laughed, and kept teasing each other while I helped Katara carry in the rest of the pies from the kitchen. Aang and his family showed up a little bit later (very excited about the tofurkey, of course) and to my surprise, Toph and Ty Lee made an appearance as well.

"Don't you have your own families to eat with?" I grumbled.

Toph grinned. "Ty Lee and I are making the rounds. We already ate early with my family, and we're going to eat later with hers. We figured that we'd hang out with you losers in between. You're welcome."

"And I brought cupcakes!" Ty Lee chirped, shoving a box of pink mush into Katara's hands. Soggy cake plus runny frosting, all a nauseating shade of cotton candy pink. "I made them myself!" Ty Lee announced proudly. "I wanted to show Toph that I could bake, too."

"Uh, thanks. They look...very sweet," Katara managed as the girls took a seat.

Now, I may not be the most perceptive person in the world when it comes to relationships, but even I was not blind to the way Toph and Ty Lee sat side by side on the couch, knees touching, constantly looking for excuses to link arms or rub shoulders.

"Besides," Toph barked out, "I heard that we might all get to lick Katara's nipples today."

"EXCUSE ME?" Katara shouted, and all the conversations stopped as everyone looked over at her.

Jun crossed the room to us and cleared her throat. "Remember those chocolates you were trying to name? Well, I might have mentioned them..."

Katara groaned, and I pulled her against me. "Sorry Toph," I said with grin. "Nobody gets to lick Katara's nipples but me."

There were some chuckles in the room - not so much from Hakoda, I realized with a cringe - but then everyone was busy fighting for a place at the table, passing food, and pouring drinks.

Finally Iroh cleared his throat and people quieted down. "This past year has been one of intense change, of metamorphosis, for all of us," he began, in his slow, commanding voice. "This process can be quite painful, however in the end, we emerge stronger, freer, and more beautiful than ever. Please join me in a toast to uncovering our true selves."

We all raised our glasses, even me, and toasted "To our true selves!" As I clinked my glass against Katara's and took a sip of ice-cold water, I had to admit that Iroh was right, as usual. There had been a lot of change, and it had been painful. Last year at Thanksgiving I was eating a gourmet meal on fine china, drinking from crystal goblets in our lavishly decorated dining room, making stiff and formal conversation with my father and sister. This year, I was crowded around a worn old picnic table that practically groaned under the weight of homecooked food, in a cluttered and overheated room filled with laughter and lively conversation. I reached down to squeeze Katara's hand, and she looked up at me with a smile. I stole a quick kiss, and felt an amazing, bone-deep sense of peace. I may never live at my old house again, but I knew that I was finally home. Thanks to Katara's love, I had found my place in the world, a place where I belonged, and no one would ever be able to take that away from me.

THE END

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**Author's Note: **I'm sorry it took me soooo long to finish this. Thanks everyone for sticking with me until I found my happy ending!


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